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WASHINGTON 
THE MAN OF ACTION 




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WASHINGTON 

THE MAN OF ACTION 



BY 



FREDERICK TREVOR HILL 

AUTHOR OP "ON THE TRAIL OF GRANT AND LEE," 
"LINCOLN THE LAWYER," ETC. 




WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
COMTE J. ONFROY BE BREVILLE 




D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
NEW YORK AND LONDON : MCMXIV 












Copyright, 1914, by 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 




©CI 
Printed in the United States of America 

OCT -6 1914 













TO 

THE BOYS 
OF THE ALF CLUB 



TJie artist hereby gratefully records 
his thanks to Messrs. Gherardi Davis 
and Origen S. Seymour and to Mr. Robert 
H. Kelby, Librarian of the New York 
Historical Society, for the documents 
and other valuable material with which 
they have supplied him and to which he 
ascribes whatever historical accuracy he 
may venture to claim for his illustrations. 

j. be breville 

{Job) 

Paris, July, 1913 



FOREWORD 

TF Washington had elected to act as his 
own biographer, it is probable that far 
less would have been written and far more 
would be known of his real life and character. 
As it is, however, the number of books con- 
cerned with his career is out of all proportion 
to the amount of information they contain, 
and the value of such facts as they do record 
is, only too often, hopelessly impaired by a 
gross alloy of eulogy and fiction. 

This condition of affairs is, of course, by no 
means unique. Many other famous men have 
suffered similar misrepresentation at the hands 
of ambitious scribes and over-enthusiastic 




F O R E W O R D 

hero-worshipers. But Washington was par- 
ticularly unfortunate in having for his earliest 
biographer a not too scrupulous gentleman- 
of-the-cloth who gave free rein to his imagi- 
nation and scored one of the most astonishing 
popular successes ever achieved by a literary 
charlatan. 

The natural result of this pernicious ex- 
ample was to tempt a veritable army of 
irresponsible scribblers into the field, and 
the mass of sentimental twaddle, convenient 
"tradition" and barefaced invention which 
they heaped up before serious- minded students 
of history had even begun to investigate the 
record, accounts, in no small measure, for much 
of the popular misconception of Washington. 

The scholarly research which has done so 
much to restore the real man to the world is 








FOREWORD 

not as familiar to the public as it should be, 
and it is by no means complete. New letters 
and documents are being discovered every 
day. But almost enough has already been 
unearthed by the able historians who have 
devoted themselves to this task to give us 
Washington's own story of his life, for he 
left a journal, several diaries and Orderly 
Books, and such a wealth of private corre- 
spondence and public papers that the volumes 
containing them now form quite a library of 
themselves. 

All this authoritative material — which, read 
together, is virtually Washington's Auto- 
biography—is now available to the special 
student, if not to the general reader, and the 
pages that follow are largely based upon this 
original source of information. 



FOREWORD 

The writer gratefully acknowledges his in- 
debtedness to the distinguished French artist, 
the Comte de Breville ("Job"), whose careful 
study of the history of the times is apparent 
in the scenes he so spiritedly portrays, and to 
Samuel Palmer Griffin, Esq. , for his scholarly 
revision of the text and close verification of 
the authorities relied on therein. 

Frederick Trevor Hill. 



Xll 



CONTENTS 

Chapter Page 

I. A Country Boy and His People . 3 

II. A Surveyor in the Saddle ... 27 

III. Opportunity 39 

IV. A Call to Arms 51 

V. In the Face of Disaster .... 60 

VI. Six Years of Peace 77 

VII. The Commander-in-Chief .... 100 

VIII. Surprise and Escape 113 

IX. Fighting Chances 127 

X. Across the Jerseys 149 

XL A Night Attack 154 

XII. A Bold Maneuver 177 

XIII. The Fight for the Hudson . . . 190 

XIV. Valley Forge 208 

XV. The Battle of Monmouth .... 229 

XVI. Treachery 242 

XVII. Yorktown 258 

XVIII. Peace 281 

XIX. Home Days 296 

XX. The Presidency 309 

XXI. Home 320 








ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

Washington Frontispiece 

Washington Riding to the "Old Field" 
School (1740) 11 

Surveying beyond the Blue Ridge Moun- 
tains (1748) 23 

With Braddock's Rear Guard (July 7-8, 
1755) 35 

The Battle of Monongahela (July 9, 1755) 47 

Washington's Orderly Awaiting His 
Master at the Home of Mrs. Martha 
Custis (July, 1758) 57 

Washington and His Bride on Their 
Way to the "White House" (January 
6, 1759) 70-71 

Washington as His Own Gamekeeper 
(1760-70) 83 

XV 






v4 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Page 



Taking Command of the Army at Cam- 
bridge (July 3, 1775) 94-95 

Reading the Declaration of Independence 
to the Army (July 9, 1776) . . . .107 

The Retreat from Long Island (August 
29, 1776) 119 

Moving to the Attack on Trenton (De- 
cember 25, 1776) 132-133 

Washington Receiving Colonel Rail's 
Parole (December 26, 1776) . . . .145 

The Battle of Princeton (January 3, 
1777) 158-159 

Valley Forge (1777-8) 172-173 

The Battle of Monmouth (June 28, 
1778) 184-185 

Molly Pitcher at Monmouth (June 28, 
1778) 199 

The First Gun at Yorktown (September 
28-9, 1781) 211 



XVI 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Page 



Americans Carrying Redoubt at York- 
town (October 14, 1781) 223 

French Carrying Redoubt at Yorktown 
(October 14, 1781) 235 

Surrender of Cornwallis (October 19, 
1781) 248-249 

Washington and His Principal Gen- 
erals 262-263 

Washington Pleading with Mutinous 
Soldiers (1782) 275 

Washington's Farewell to His Officers 
(December 4, 1783) 288-289 

Washington at Mount Vernon (1798) 302-303 

The Death of Washington (December 
14, 1799) 315 

Washington's Tomb at Mount Vernon . 325 




WASHINGTON 
THE MAN OF ACTION 



CHAPTER I 
A COUNTRY BOY AND HIS PEOPLE 

VIRGINIA was singularly for- 
tunate in the type of colonist 
that was attracted to her shores in 
the sixteenth and seventeenth cen- 
turies, and some of the best blood 
of England was represented among 
her early settlers. 

To cross the Atlantic in those 
days was no pleasure trip. It was 
a hazardous journey which only the 
hardy and adventurous dared at- 






WASHINGTON 

tempt, and the land beyond the 
treacherous ocean was, at best, but 
a promising wilderness, peopled 
largely by savages and girt with all 
the terrors of the unknown. It is 
not to such fearsome solitudes that 
men go to prate of rank or family 
names. The builders of new worlds 
are usually men of courage, enter- 
prise and independence, with a spirit 
of conquest in their veins which 
craves an outlet, and the English 
colonials were largely recruited from 
this class. Those who had inherited 
sterling virtues did not need to 
advertise that fact. They had 







WASHINGTON 

unbounded opportunities for prov- 
ing their metal, and the staying 
qualities of good breeding asserted 
themselves in many a Virginian 
pioneer. 

Of such stock were the Wash- 
ingtons of Westmoreland County. 
Few settlers could boast a better 
Old World lineage than they, but 
so little did they pride themselves 
on their family history that they 
had almost forgotten it by the seven- 
teen hundreds, and it is doubtful if 
George Washington knew anything 
of his ancestry beyond the fact that 
his father and grandfather had made 



WASHINGTON 

honorable records for themselves in 
Virginia. 

At the time of the birth of his 
famous son (February 22, 1732), 
Augustine Washington was a 
planter living in a very simple fashion 
on one of his three farms called 
"Wakefield, "on the Potomac River. 
Shortly after this event, however, 
he moved to another of his planta- 
tions known by the Indian name 
" Epsewasson (Hunting Creek), 
and later rechristened Mount 
Vernon, in honor of the famous 
Admiral Vernon. Here Washington 
passed the first eight years of his 



WASHINGTON 

life, free of schoolrooms and books, 
but learning all that outdoor life, at 
the edge of the wilderness, could 
teach a healthy boy. 

To ride well was no distinction 
in Virginia, but even as a very little 
lad Washington's horsemanship at- 
tracted attention, and as he grew 
older he steadily improved until he 
was regarded as a veritable expert. 
In shooting and fishing he was not 
so proficient, but he learned a good 
deal concerning the habits of ani- 
mals and fish from the Indians who 
haunted the neighborhood, and from 
the same instructors he likewise ac- 



WASHINGTON 

quired much of his knowledge of 
woodcraft, all of which information 
stood him in good stead in the hunt- 
ing field and, many years later, in 
his military campaigns. 

It was a sad day for the boy when 
the house on Hunting Creek burned 
down, for with the move to his 
father's third plantation on the Rap- 
pahannock River, near Fredericks- 
burg, his freedom was seriously 
curtailed by the necessity of attend- 
ing school. He had no reason to 
complain, however, when he mounted 
his pony and rode off to the log 
cabin which housed his first school, 



Washington Riding to the "Old Field" 
School (1740) 










//w A L\i 



WASHINGTON 

for few youngsters reach the age of 
eight untroubled by lessons or book 
learning of any kind. But the wis- 
dom of his parents in exempting 
him from all study up to that 
age was fully demonstrated by the 
bodily strength which he acquired 
in those vitally important years, 
and by the ease with which he as- 
similated his primary education once 
it was begun. 

His first instructor was a man 
transported from England for some 
minor offense and sold to Mr. Wash- 
ington or his neighbors, who had 
made him sexton of the church and 



13 



WASHINGTON 

master of the local "Old Field" 
School. It is not probable that this 
queer schoolmaster was much of a 
scholar, but he apparently had a 
knack for teaching, and he certainly 
had an apt pupil in Washington. 
Indeed the lad had not been at 
school very long before he was able 
to write his name in a good, round 
hand, as is clearly proved by an old 
book of sermons (now in the Boston 
Athenaeum), on the fly leaf of 
which the young penman, evidently 
proud of a new accomplishment, 
practised his signature not once, but 
many times. 

14 



WASHINGTON 

Three years later his father died, 
so that from about his twelfth to 
his sixteenth year the boy was di- 
rectly under his mother's guidance. 
That she was a strong, forceful 
character does not admit of doubt, 
and her government of the lad was 
all that could be desired. Well dis- 
ciplined and accustomed to obey 
and respect his parents from his 
earliest years, he was gradually 
taught to assume responsibility for 
the younger children and to aid his 
mother in the management of the 
household and the plantations, part 
of which, by the terms of his father's 

15 



WASHINGTON 

will, he was to inherit when he be- 
came of age. But land was worth 
very little in Virginia unless good 
use was made of it, and the boy 
was brought up with a thorough 
understanding that he would be 
obliged to earn his own living as 
soon as he had finished school. 

At one time he expressed an in- 
clination for a sailor's life, and as 
his half brother, Captain Lawrence 
Washington, heartily approved of 
this and offered to procure him a 
suitable commission, he would prob- 
ably have gone to sea at the age of 
about fourteen had not his mother 



16 



WASHINGTON 

positively forbidden him to consider 
such a career. But, although Mrs. 
Washington differed with Captain 
Lawrence on this occasion, she had 
good reason to be grateful to him 
and to her other stepson, Augustine, 
for the interest they displayed in 
her boy. Indeed it was most for- 
tunate that he should have come 
under the influence of these young 
men at this period, for two cleaner, 
manlier fellows never lived. 

Lawrence was a retired army 
officer and Augustine was a planter 
when Washington finished his ele- 
mentary studies and entered a school 

17 



WASHINGTON 

kept by a Mr. Williams near the 
"Wakefield" plantation then occu- 
pied by his half brother Augustine. 
Here the boy lived for a time and 
soon became a favorite with his 
host and his brother, who, finding 
him apt in every sort of sport, made 
him their constant companion and 
encouraged him in all that makes for 
manliness and good breeding. Both 
men had been educated abroad and 
knew the ways of the world, and 
the unconscious instruction their 
young relative received at their 
hands did much toward making 
him not only a man, but a gentle- 

18 



WASHINGTON 

man in the best sense of the 
word. 

The brothers were not alone 
in this service, however, for while 
Washington was visiting Captain 
Lawrence he was introduced to 
Lord Fairfax, an old and somewhat 
eccentric bachelor, who took a great 
fancy to the lad. Lord Fairfax was 
a graduate of Oxford who had come 
to Virginia on a business visit and 
had fallen in love with the country 
which he thenceforth made his 
home. His hobby was fox hunting, 
and it was, perhaps, Washington's 
horsemanship which first attracted 

19 



WASHINGTON 

his notice. At all events, the old 
gentleman promptly invited him to 
join in his straight-across-country 
hunts, and, finding him not only a 
good rider but a promising lad, he 
became interested in his future and 
finally gave him his first business 
opportunity. 

By this time Washington was at- 
tending an excellent school at Fred- 
ericksburg kept by a Mr. Marye, 
under whom he studied, among 
other things, the art of surveying. 
This work evidently appealed to 
him more than anything else, for 
at the age of fourteen he surveyed 

20 






Surveying Beyond the Blue Ridge Mountains 
(1748) 







%i^ ■%.J w 1 



;«i*jf* v ^!r 



WASHINGTON 

the Mount Vernon plantation, as 
appears from the map still in ex- 
istence, and took special lessons 
from Mr. James Genn, the official 
surveyor of the county, some of 
whose surveys for these years which 
have been preserved were obvi- 
ously transcribed by Washington 
himself. 

It thus came about that when 
Washington was nearing his six- 
teenth birthday, Lord Fairfax offered 
to employ him on the survey of his 
property beyond the Blue Ridge 
Mountains, and with the glad ac- 
ceptance of this opportunity for 

25 



WASHINGTON 

experience and profit the boy's 
school days ended and his life as a 
surveyor began. 






CHAPTER II 
A SURVEYOR IN THE SADDLE 

IT is not to be supposed that Lord 
Fairfax intrusted the surveying 
of his distant estate entirely to a 
young boy like Washington. He 
was, of course, merely one of those 
to whom this very difficult and 
arduous task was committed, the 
party including Mr. Genn, the 
licensed surveyor of Westmoreland 
County; Col. George Fairfax, one 
of his lordship's relatives, and a 

27 



WASHINGTON 

number of woodsmen and guides. 
Careful preparations had to be made 
for the trip, as the land beyond the 
Blue Ridge was an almost inacces- 
sible wilderness, and merely to 
journey there and back entailed an 
absence of several weeks. 

It was, therefore, necessary to 
procure suitable packhorses and 
load them with all that was essen- 
tial for the expedition without 
overburdening them for the diffi- 
cult mountain trails. In this work 
Washington took an active part 
and everything he learned proved 
of the utmost value to him before 



28 



WASHINGTON 

many years had passed. Indeed this 
initial experience in roughing it ap- 
parently cured him of any conceit 
in his own knowledge of wood- 
craft, for the daily journal which he 
kept on the trip shows that he made 
all the mistakes which a tenderfoot 
usually makes, and the humorous 
vein in which he recorded his blun- 
ders demonstrates that he accepted 
them in the right spirit. 

The surveyors met with no 
serious misadventure on the trip, 
and though they encountered several 
Indians, some of whom had ob- 
viously been on the warpath, the 

29 



WASHINGTON 

red men merely displayed curiosity 
in their work and did not attempt 
to molest them in any way. Wash- 
ington accordingly improved the 
occasion to make friends with the 
savages and to learn all he could of 
their customs. In fact, at the end of 
a month he had managed to increase 
his knowledge of Indian lore very 
considerably, and by the time he 
returned to the settlement he was a 
good woodsman and a better sur- 
veyor. Certainly the written report 
which he handed to his employer 
must have made a very favorable 
impression on Lord Fairfax, for he 



30 



WASHINGTON 

strongly encouraged his protege to 
persevere _ in this work and later 
aided him to procure a license con- 
ferring official authority upon his 
surveys. 

For the next three years, there- 
fore, the young man practically 
lived in the open, often making 
long, lonely journeys on horseback 
to remote parts of the colony, and 
the character of his work was such 
that he was soon earning seven dol- 
lars and upwards a day, his ser- 
vices being constantly in demand. 
This life in the saddle not only 
vastly improved his woodsmanship 

31 






WASHINGTON 

but gave him an unusual oppor- 
tunity for judging the prospective 
values of land, in the purchase of 
which he utilized all his spare 
savings. 

Meanwhile he made his head- 
quarters at Captain Lawrence 
Washington's house where he met 
an ex-officer named Adjutant Muse, 
who gave him some instruction 
in military science, and a retired 
sergeant named Van Braam, who 
taught him how to fence. It was 
doubtless Captain Lawrence who 
suggested that his kinsman should 
thus employ himself, as he wished 

32 







With Braddock's Rear Guard 
(July 7-8, 1755) 






>^ — r 




WASHINGTON 

to qualify him for a commission in 
the colonial army. The result was 
that by the time the young man 
was nineteen he was appointed 
a military inspector, with the rank 
of Major, at a salary of a hundred 
and fifty pounds a year. It is plain, 
however, that Washington himself 
had no intention of adopting a 
soldier's life when he accepted this 
post, the duties of which were 
merely nominal. Indeed he con- 
tinued his work as a surveyor until 
responsibilities imposed on him by 
Captain Lawrence's illness and 
death compelled him to abandon 

37 



WASHINGTON 

it, and it was not until he was 
nearly twenty-two that an event 
occurred which entirely changed 
his career. 



CHAPTER III 

OPPORTUNITY 

YEARS before his death Captain 
Lawrence Washington had 
foreseen trouble between the French 
and the English, for the trading 
company in which he was interested 
claimed land on the Ohio River to 
which France asserted a paramount 
right, and he saw that it was only 
a question of time when the two 
governments would be drawn into 
the controversy. The French were 

39 



WASHINGTON 

the first to realize this, however, 
and before the English colonial au- 
thorities awoke to the situation their 
rivals had erected a fort on the dis- 
puted territory, and rumor had it 
that they were attempting to per- 
suade the Indians to support them 
in the pending quarrel with Eng- 
land. Governor Dinwiddie of Vir- 
ginia promptly dispatched an officer 
to locate this fort and lodge a protest 
against its erection, but his repre- 
sentative speedily returned without 
accomplishing his mission, and his 
report plainly showed that no one 
but a skilful woodsman, familiar 

40 



WASHINGTON 

with Indian customs, would succeed 
in making his way to the French 
and checking their intrigues with 
the red men. 

At this crisis some one advised the 
Governor that young Mr. Washing- 
ton, who had lately been appointed 
as one of the colonial adjutant- 
generals, was well qualified for 
the work at hand. This suggestion 
evidently appealed to His Excel- 
lency, for he summoned the young 
man and directed him to proceed 
at once to the headquarters of the 
French forces, deliver a letter of 
protest to the Commandant, and 

41 



WASHINGTON 

warn the Indians not to be drawn 
into any quarrel with the English 
who were disposed to remain upon 
friendly terms with them. 

A tenderfoot, anxious to display 
his zeal, would, perhaps, have rushed 
posthaste into the wilderness on 
receiving such instructions, but 
Washington was too thoroughly 
schooled in forest life for any mis- 
take of that kind. With the utmost 
care he selected his party, which in- 
cluded Van Braam, his old fencing 
master, and Christopher Gist, a 
noted guide; and by forestalling 
every need of the expedition, from 

42 



WASHINGTON 

snowshoes for his men to suitable 
presents for the Indians, he insured 
not only the comfort of himself and 
his party but the success of the im- 
portant duty with which he was 
charged. Indeed had he neglected 
those details he might as well have 
remained at home, for snow was 
soon encountered and the Indians 
proved Very punctilious in regard 
to every diplomatic ceremony. In 
fact, it was only by observing the 
utmost tact with the redskins that 
he was enabled to persuade the most 
important of their chiefs to stand by 
the English in the coming conflict, 

43 



WASHINGTON 

and all his woodcraft was required 
before he reached the French fort in 
safety. 

Once there he made the best use 
of his ears and eyes, delivered his 
dispatch to the commanding officer, 
received a very polite but defiant 
response, and made careful prepara- 
tions for his return trip, which he 
foresaw would be fraught with no 
little danger. But even with all 
his precautions he barely escaped 
disaster, for soon after he turned 
his face southward he was almost 
drawn into an ambush by a treach- 
erous Indian guide who attempted 

44 



The Battle of Monongahela 
(July 9, 1755) 






l^fj^ 




WASHINGTON 

to shoot him when he found he could 
not lure him off the trail. From 
that time onward the home journey 
was practically a race for life, but 
after much suffering and privation 
he reached the city of Williams- 
burg in safety, and his written 
report was promptly delivered to 
the Governor in person. 

That document was a remarkable 
production for a young man of 
twenty-two, for it was a full, accu- 
rate and clear exposition of the 
entire situation, both from a mili- 
tary and a political point of view. 
Indeed it was regarded as so impor- 

49 



WASHINGTON 

tant that it was printed and pub- 
lished as a governmental record, and 
its author was promptly rewarded 
with a lieutenant-colonelcy in the 
colonial army. 



CHAPTER IV 
A CALL TO ARMS 

FROM the moment the French 
Commandant's defiant reply 
to Governor Dinwiddie's message 
had been received war was inevi- 
table, and Colonel Washington was 
speedily ordered to march at the 
head of about a hundred and fifty 
raw recruits to the relief of a certain 
Captain Trent who, sometime pre- 
viously, had been ordered to erect a 
fort on the Ohio River and who 

51 






WASHINGTON 

was reported to be sorely in need of 
reinforcements to enable him to hold 
his ground. This officer, however, 
was the very man who had proved 
unequal to the task of locating the 
French Commandant, and before 
Washington could reach him he 
abandoned his post to the advancing 
enemy. 

Regarding this hostile move as a 
declaration of war on the part of 
France, Washington pushed boldly 
forward, confident of his ability to 
punish the aggressors or at least to 
prepare the way for the rest of his 
regiment. In this he counted strongly 



WASHINGTON 

on the arrival of the Indian allies he 
had enlisted on his mission to the 
French fort, and even when he 
learned that the enemy was advanc- 
ing in force he continued to press 
onward. The Indians, however, 
were tardy in putting in an ap- 
pearance, so he halted behind in- 
trenchments. But when at last the 
redskins did arrive they mustered 
only a handful of warriors. Never- 
theless, hearing that the advance- 
guard of the French was approach- 
ing, Washington sallied forth and, 
surprising it, killed, wounded or 
captured almost the entire party. 

53 



WASHINGTON 

Then, flushed by this little success, 
he again pressed forward. But by 
this time his provisions were failing 
and the Indians were weakening, so 
he soon deemed it prudent to fall 
back on his intrenchments at Great 
Meadows, which he barely reached 
before the French, in overwhelming 
numbers, appeared and opened fire. 
There was nothing to be done under 
these circumstances but to make 
terms with the enemy, and after 
holding out for a day, he answered 
a flag of truce by agreeing to retire 
with all the honors of war. 

It would not have been surprising 

54 



Washington's Orderly Awaiting His Master 

at the Home of Mrs. Martha Custis 

(July, 1758) 




iuLWl 



WASHINGTON 

if the young commander had been 
censured for his reckless conduct on 
this occasion, but enthusiasm for 
the war was running high in the 
colony when he returned and he 
was acclaimed as a hero. Indeed he 
was even given a vote of thanks for 
the courage with which he had 
stuck to his post. But the unmerited 
praise did not blind him to his error 
of judgment, and from this reverse, 
at the very opening of his military 
career, he learned a lesson which he 
never afterwards forgot. 



CHAPTER V 

IN THE FACE OF DISASTER 

A LTHOUGH no formal declara- 
-Z~JL tion of war was issued until 
some time after the affair at Great 
Meadows, the British home govern- 
ment soon assumed entire charge of 
the campaign. The immediate re- 
sult of this was to render all colonial 
officers subordinate to the regulars. 
Washington, therefore, at once re- 
signed his commission and retired to 
his plantation, from which, however, 






60 



WASHINGTON 

he was soon summoned by an invi- 
tation to join General Braddock's 
staff as a volunteer without loss of 
rank. This honor was obviously 
tendered him merely because of his 
knowledge of the country. But it 
afforded just the opportunity he 
desired for enlarging his military 
experience, so he gladly accepted it, 
and promptly joining the General 
at headquarters, he watched the 
drilling of the regular troops and 
inspected their equipment with un- 
feigned admiration. Never had he 
seen such perfectly disciplined men 
or such smart accoutrements, and 

61 



WASHINGTON 

never before had he met an officer 
whose military experience and repu- 
tation could be compared with 
Braddock's. 

His enthusiasm, however, received 
a severe check when he observed the 
preparations which were being made 
for the campaign. Doubtless from 
a European standpoint all that was 
done was absolutely correct, but, 
considering the nature of the country 
through which the small army would 
have to travel, it was obvious to his 
experienced eyes that the amount 
of baggage and the character of the 
ordnance provided for the expedition 

62 






WASHINGTON 

were absurd. Moreover, the route 
selected for the march was by no 
means the best, and after some hesi- 
tation the young Virginian ventured 
upon a few suggestions. He soon 
found, however, that his advice was 
not particularly welcomed; but he 
was not actually repulsed, and be- 
coming still further disturbed as 
time wore on, he protested more 
and more vigorously until Braddock 
began to show annoyance. 

The expedition was, therefore, 
handicapped at the very start by 
poor roads and worse equipment — 
all of which was realized before the 



63 



WASHINGTON 

first day's march was done. Never- 
theless, the over-burdened column 
struggled on, many of its number 
becoming ill, and among others 
Washington himself. Indeed for a 
while he was forced to abandon the 
march altogether, and then, fearing 
that he would arrive too late for the 
prospective battle, he mounted into 
one of the provision wagons, and 
thus kept in touch with the troops. 
Meanwhile Braddock had seen 
the impossibility of dragging his 
heaviest cannon through the wilder- 
ness and had acted on his aide's 
advice to the extent of abandoning 

64 



WASHINGTON 

all but the light field guns. Noth- 
ing could persuade him, however, 
to adopt the colonial methods of 
protecting himself against surprise 
by throwing out a strong skirmish 
line to search the woods for Indian 
ambushes. Indeed when Washing- 
ton caught up with the advance- 
guard the troops were preparing to 
cross the Monongahela River in a 
solid column, although a collision 
with the French and their red- 
skinned allies was to be expected at 
any moment. 

This prospect stirred the Vir- 
ginian volunteer to action and, 

65 



WASHINGTON 

instantly mounting, he reported 
for duty, arriving just in time to 
see the vanguard cross the river 
with flags flying and drums beat- 
ing as though on dress parade. It 
was unquestionably a magnificent 
spectacle, but as the young officer 
watched it with swelling pride, a 
puff of smoke from the woods, fol- 
lowed by the sharp crack of a rifle, 
made his heart stand still, and almost 
before he could wheel his horse the 
forest was ablaze with the fire of a 
well-hidden foe. 

There was only one chance of 
saving the men from the deadly 

66 




Washington and His Bride on Their Way to 
the "White House" (January 6, 1759) 



WASHINGTON 

ambuscade into which they had 
obviously fallen, and that was 
to order them to spread out and 
take cover behind the trees as the 
Virginian contingent had done at 
the very first shot. But though 
Washington implored Braddock to 
adopt this course, the brave but 
obstinate officer would not listen to 
what seemed to him like cowardly 
tactics, and he actually attempted 
to make his troops rally around the 
colors, where they were shot down 
by the score. Washington strove 
hard to prevent this slaughter, and 
two horses fell beneath him and four 



73 



WASHINGTON 

bullets passed through his clothing 
as he struggled to bring some of the 
field pieces into action. But be- 
fore the guns were in position panic 
seized upon the huddled troops, 
many of whose officers, including 
Braddock, had already fallen, and 
they streamed pell-mell from the 
scene, cutting the traces of the ar- 
tillery horses and fleeing on them 
across the river. 

It was impossible to check this 
headlong flight, and Washington 
confined his efforts to covering 
the retreat with his little band 
of Virginians. Had the French and 

74 



WASHINGTON 

Indians pursued they could have 
played havoc with the fugitives, but 
they paused to secure scalps and 
other trophies of victory, and Wash- 
ington took advantage of this oppor- 
tunity to slip away and overtake the 
retreating rabble, of which he as- 
sumed charge in default of a ranking 
officer. As a matter of fact, there 
were scarcely any officers left, no 
less than sixty having fallen in their 
heroic efforts to save the day, and 
before the defeated remnant of 
the army had reached a point of 
safety Braddock died of his wounds. 
Washington read the burial service 

75 



WASHINGTON 

at his unfortunate commander's 
grave, over which the troops were 
marched and countermarched to 
obliterate all signs of it from the 
supposedly pursuing foe. But there 
was no pursuit, and the survivors 
finally reached the reserve column 
unmolested. 



CHAPTER VI 

SIX YEARS OF PEACE 

NO one except the Virginians 
came out of this disastrous 
campaign with any credit, for the 
ambush had been effected by a mere 
handful of French and Indians who 
might easily have been dispersed. 
Washington, however, received 
much credit for the coolness and 
courage with which he had covered 
the retreat and he was soon offered 
the supreme command of the local 

77 



WASHINGTON 

forces. This was an extraordinary 
honor for a man not yet twenty- 
four years of age, but he was by 
no means anxious to continue his 
army career and it was with con- 
siderable reluctance that he finally 
accepted the appointment. The 
two years that followed brought 
him little or no active service in the 
field, but they gave him invaluable 
experience in maintaining an army 
under adverse conditions, and fin- 
ally he had the satisfaction of lead- 
ing his troops into the smoking 
ruins of Fort Duquesne, whose sur- 
render by the French brought the 

78 



WASHINGTON 

long war to a close and ended for 
the time his military career. 

Meanwhile Washington had met 
Mrs. Martha Custis, a young widow 
at whose house he had been 
entertained on one of his hur- 
ried official journeys to Williams- 
burg. This chance meeting with 
the lady had been rapidly followed 
by several calls, the duration of 
which is said to have sorely taxed 
the patience of his faithful body- 
servant, Bishop, who had been 
Braddock's orderly, and who invari- 
ably attended his new master on 
these visitations. Washington's 

79 



WASHINGTON 

courtship, however, was very brief, 
there being love at sight on both 
sides, and within a few days after 
he had first met Mrs. Custis 
his engagement to her was an- 
nounced. 

The marriage, which was attended 
by the Governor and many distin- 
guished Virginians, took place about 
six months after the campaign 
closed, and at the conclusion of the 
ceremony the bride was driven in a 
coach and four, attended by Wash- 
ington on horseback and accom- 
panied by a brave cavalcade, to her 
country residence known as the 

80 



Washington as His Own Gamekeeper 
(1760-70) 



jS#?* Slr * 










a- 






*v^ 




WASHINGTON 

"White House." Here the newly 
married couple resided for a time 
and then moved to Williamsburg 
so that Washington might attend 
the sessions of the House of Bur- 
gesses, to which he had been elected 
during the war. 

To be numbered among the law- 
makers of Virginia at the age of 
twenty-six was a signal honor. 
But the young legislator was not 
sorry when the session closed, for 
he was anxious to renew his life 
as a planter, and at the earliest 
possible moment he started for 
Mount Vernon, which he had in- 

85 



WASHINGTON 

herited from his father and which 
he had always intended to make his 
permanent home. Indeed the mo- 
ment he arrived at the scene of his 
boyhood days he began carrying out 
the plans he had long had in mind 
for establishing a model plantation, 
and for six happy years he devoted 
himself to this task. 

In all this Mrs. Washington 
seconded his efforts most effi- 
ciently, for much of the manage- 
ment of a successful Virginian 
plantation in those days devolved 
upon the mistress of the house. 
But busy as both she and her hus- 

86 



WASHINGTON 

band were, they contrived to make 
time for social duties and kept 
such open house for all the country- 
side that Mount Vernon became 
the very center of gayety and 
sport. There the meets of the fox- 
hunters were held, there all the 
neighborhood gathered at balls and 
dinners and there every distinguished 
traveler was entertained with true 
Virginian hospitality. 

These and other diversions might 
well have tempted Washington to 
entrust the details of his business 
to others. But, on the contrary, 
he continued to superintend it with 

87 



WASHINGTON 

the most minute care, until his 
reputation as a planter was so firmly 
established that his brands of flour 
and tobacco brought the highest 
prices on the market and were passed 
without government inspection, not 
only at home, but abroad. From 
early dawn till sunset he was con- 
stantly in the saddle directing his 
workmen, planning improvements 
and experimenting with crops. On 
one occasion he even acted as his 
own gamekeeper, for, discovering a 
poacher at work in one of his streams, 
he sprang into the water and, un- 
deterred by the intruder's leveled 

88 






WASHINGTON 

rifle, seized the prow of his canoe 
and drove him to flight. 

A mere glance at Washington's 
careful diary and the orderly corre- 
spondence which he maintained at 
this period is sufficient to show 
what a genius for system and what 
high executive capacity he pos- 
sessed. But even with these rare 
qualities at his command, the 
amount of work which he accom- 
plished each day was truly astonish- 
ing. That he did it easily and still 
had time for recreation is an object 
lesson for every one who longs for 
a twenty-fifth hour in the day. 

89 



WASHINGTON 

From the very outset of his career 
as a planter his official duties had de- 
manded far more time than a selfish 
man would have been willing to 
spare, but as the years rolled by the 
attitude of England toward the 
colonies drew him more and more 
into the public service. At the 
House of Burgesses he was in con- 
stant attendance, listening closely 
to the arguments of Patrick Henry 
and other orators, though seldom 
taking part in the debates, which 
were becoming sharper and bolder 
with every session. But his actions 
spoke louder than words, for when 

90 



Taking Command of the Army at Cambridge 
(July 3, 1775) 









f. '-■-d 






* 







1 ? X ;'-*V ^'^|fffe^2S r 







WASHINGTON 

the legislature was dissolved by the 
Governor for having ventured to 
protest against the home govern- 
ment's actions he himself proposed 
an embargo on tea and certain other 
articles imported from England, 
and never afterwards permitted the 
forbidden merchandise to be used at 
Mount Vernon under any pretext 
whatsoever. Again, when the Bur- 
gesses protested against the dispatch 
of British troops to Boston and were 
once more dismissed for their pains, 
he voted for a day of fasting and 
prayer and observed both the letter 
and the spirit of his vote. 

97 



WASHINGTON 

Two months later, at a meeting 
held to elect delegates to the Conti- 
nental Congress, he made a short 
but exceedingly characteristic 
speech. "I will raise a thousand 
men, enlist them at my own ex- 
pense and march myself at their 
head for the relief of Boston," he 
announced to the assembled com- 
pany. Those few words plainly 
demonstrated that, in his opinion, 
the hour for action had arrived. 
But this view was not shared by 
the majority of his hearers, and when, 
almost a year later (May 3, 1775), 
he left Mount Vernon to attend 

98 



WASHINGTON 

the second Continental Congress at 
Philadelphia, he little dreamed that 
he was not to see his home again 
for eight long years. 



CHAPTER VII 
THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 

THE news of the Battle of Lex- 
ington reached Washington 
while he was still on his way to Phil- 
adelphia. He accordingly doffed his 
citizen's attire and appeared in the 
convention hall attired in his old 
blue and red regimentals. That, to 
his mind, best expressed the require- 
ments of the situation. But even 
then his associates were not willing 
to take up the gage of battle, and 

100 






WASHINGTON 

a month passed before they were 
forced to do so by the obvious neces- 
sity for providing the armed mob 
which surrounded Boston with some 
military leadership. Several col- 
onies had candidates for this honor, 
but Virginia's claims were recog- 
nized as superior to those of any 
other and her choice was Washing- 
ton, who, on June 15, 1775, was 
unanimously elected Commander- 
in-Chief. 

It was with no elation that the 
new general learned of his appoint- 
ment. He knew, as few did, the 
innumerable difficulties that lay 

101 



WASHINGTON 

before him and felt anything but 
confident of his ability to surmount 
them. Nevertheless he accepted the 
duty with a few modest words, de- 
clining all offers of payment for his 
services and, confiding his family 
and business to his brother's care, 
hastened to Cambridge, where he 
arrived on July 2, 1775. The next 
day, amid scenes of wild enthusiasm, 
he assumed his duties as head of the 
citizen army which had just proved 
its metal at the Battle of Bunker 
Hill. 

As far as bravery and patriotism 
were concerned, the American troops 

102 



WASHINGTON 

left nothing to be desired. But save 
in these particulars they were most 
wofully equipped. Indeed Wash- 
ington had not been long at the 
front before he learned that there 
was scarcely enough ammunition on 
hand for a sharp skirmish, and had 
Gage (his former comrade in the 
Monongahela campaign), who then 
commanded the British in Boston, 
known of this he could have raised 
the siege of the town with almost 
ridiculous ease. 

But aghast as the new Comman- 
der-in-Chief was at this alarming 
situation, he instantly met it by 

103 




WASHINGTON 

maneuvering his men so that his 
opponent would conclude that he 
was preparing for an assault. This 
bold ruse was highly successful 
and while certain officers and men 
were dispatched to Ticonderoga to 
procure the siege guns recently 
captured at that post, others were 
ordered to scour the country for 
powder and ball, with the result 
that before long a reasonable amount 
of ammunition was secured and all 
immediate danger of ignominious 
capture was averted. 

But other dangers rapidly ap- 
peared, for the troops, enlisted only 

104 



Reading the Declaration of Independence to 
the Army (July 9, 1776) 



WASHINGTON 

for three months, began to return 
to their homes, and what little 
training and discipline they had 
received went with them. Thus, 
under the very eyes of the enemy, 
the harassed commander was obliged 
to disband one army and recruit an- 
other — a task which would probably 
have been an impossibility for any 
other military leader. 

But Washington was not only a 
soldier; he was a man who, by close 
application, had trained himself to 
meet emergencies and to devise ways 
and means of overcoming difficul- 
ties. For two years after Braddock's 

109 



WASHINGTON 

defeat he had kept a makeshift army 
in the field and for six years he had 
molded a large body of workmen 
into the most effective business 
organization in Virginia. All this 
training was now utilized to create 
an army out of raw material, and so 
tirelessly did he supervise every de- 
tail of the work that a second force, 
far more formidable than the first, 
both in numbers and discipline, was 
confronting Boston when the long- 
looked-for cannon arrived upon the 
scene. 

Up to this moment Washington 
had had no opportunity to display 

no 



WASHINGTON 

his military talents. But he now 
decided on one of those swift moves 
for which he afterwards became 
famous. Making a pretended at- 
tack on one side of the town he 
seized Dorchester Heights on the 
other side, and before his opponents 
realized what was happening they 
discovered that Boston lay helpless 
under the cannon he had dragged 
into position upon those command- 
ing hills. 

Flight or capture were the only 
alternatives for General Howe, who, 
by that time, had taken charge of 
the British forces, and, hastily em- 

111 



WASHINGTON 

barking his troops on the waiting 
fleet, he abandoned Boston, of which 
Washington formally took posses- 
sion on March 17, 1776. 



CHAPTER VIII 

SURPRISE AND ESCAPE 

THE evacuation of Boston, 
though gratifying for the en- 
couragement which it gave to the 
supporters of the American cause, 
did not render Washington over- 
confident. He knew that the British 
would speedily seek compensation 
for their loss by the capture of one 
of the other Atlantic seaports, and 
he was not, therefore, at all sur- 
prised when he learned that General 

113 



WASHINGTON 

Howe's army was headed for New 
York. The task of defending that 
city without ships or forts was 
almost impossible, but, gathering 
up whatever troops could be spared 
from Boston, the American com- 
mander arrived in New York well 
in advance of the enemy. 

There was no time to prepare any 
really formidable defences, but barri- 
cades were erected, lead was torn 
from the roofs of houses to make 
bullets, and cannon were posted 
along the river front. For a time it 
was hoped that these guns would 
prevent the British ships from sail- 

114 



WASHINGTON 

ing past the city and landing troops 
at the upper end of the town to cut 
off a retreat. But the first hostile 
vessels that attempted to slip past 
the water batteries did so with ease, 
and Washington thereafter confined 
his efforts toward opposing the 
advance of Howe's army which had 
been temporarily landed on Staten 
Island. 

To this end he concentrated his 
troops on the Long Island shore, 
throwing up intrenchments on the 
Brooklyn Heights, and otherwise 
preparing for a stout resistance. 
Meanwhile Congress proclaimed the 

115 



WASHINGTON 

independence of the colonies, and 
on July 9, 1776, he assembled his 
troops in the fields which have since 
become City Hall Park, and there 
the Declaration of Independence was 
read to them by their officers, amid 
scenes of wild enthusiasm. 

By this time the British Govern- 
ment had begun to realize the serious 
nature of the conflict that lay before 
it, and Lord Howe, Admiral of the 
fleet, was intrusted to open negotia- 
tions for an adjustment of the diffi- 
culties. Unfortunately, he began 
by sending a letter to the American 
commander, addressed to Mr. Wash- 
no 



The Retreat from Long Island 
(August 29, 1776) 



I A 



g.-raw- 







WASHINGTON 

ington — a studied insult which the 
General could not disregard without 
a loss of dignity to the country he 
represented. He therefore promptly 
returned the missive unopened and, 
though Howe later renewed his ad- 
vances in proper form, nothing was 
accomplished. 

Then the long expected campaign 
opened with a brilliant move by 
General Howe, who suddenly landed 
a powerful force at Gravesend Bay, 
near Brooklyn. Washington was, 
at this time, in New York, but he 
hurried across the river and, giving 
minute orders for watching the roads 

121 



WASHINGTON 

to prevent a surprise, placed General 
Israel Putnam in command and re- 
turned to headquarters. For a few 
days the British remained quietly 
within their lines, and then the very 
thing of which Washington had 
warned his subordinates gave the 
enemy an opening. By some mis- 
chance or negligence one road was 
left unguarded, and by this the 
British approached unseen and un- 
suspected. 

Surprised as they were, the 
Americans fought with desperate 
courage, but the battle was over 
when Washington reached the 

122 






WASHINGTON 

scene and only darkness saved the 
army, which had been driven back 
on its last intrenchments at Brook- 
lyn Heights. Indeed, with a superior 
force confronting it and a wide river 
behind it, capture or annihilation 
seemed certain, but Washington 
was not ready to accept either alter- 
native. Without the loss of a mo- 
ment, he dispatched couriers to seize 
every boat, barge and scow which 
could be located on the river front 
and hurry them to the rescue. Then, 
assembling his officers, he explained 
his plan, which was to be kept 
secret from the men. As soon as 



123 



WASHINGTON 

the nondescript fleet arrived the 
officers were to move their troops so 
as to create the idea that they were 
being formed for a night attack, and 
then quickly wheel them about 
and march them aboard the vessels. 
Meanwhile the companies nearest 
the British were to remain in 
position, noisily throwing up new 
intrenchments. Of course, if this 
maneuver was discovered all would 
be lost, for the troops would be 
powerless to defend themselves. 
But desperate ills demand desperate 
remedies, and measures were at once 
taken to carry out the perilous orders. 

124 






WASHINGTON 

Again and again during the event- 
ful hours that followed disaster 
seemed inevitable. Once a cannon 
was accidentally discharged while 
being moved to the shore and once 
the rear-guard, left to deceive the 
enemy with a pretence of digging 
intrenchments, mistaking its orders, 
abandoned its position, and it seemed 
almost certain that the British sen- 
tinels would discover the deserted 
lines. Fortunately, however, they 
remained in ignorance of this fact 
and after the whole army was safely 
afloat Washington himself stepped 
into a boat and gave the order to 

125 



WASHINGTON 

begin the retreat. Even then the fate 
of the whole expedition trembled in 
the balance, for the wind died out 
and the tide began to carry the 
heavily laden vessels toward the 
enemy. Finally, however, the breeze 
freshened in the right direction and 
under cover of a fog the entire 
flotilla slipped quietly away. When 
the sun rose on August 30, 1776, 
not a man or a gun confronted the 
British lines. 



CHAPTER IX 

FIGHTING CHANCES 

ASTONISHED and chagrined 
l\ as General Howe was at the 
escape of the American army, he 
soon convinced himself that it had 
merely slipped out of the frying pan 
into the fire, for he knew that New 
York was an island from which 
Washington and his troops would 
find it extremely difficult to retreat. 
Indeed, with Lord Howe's powerful 
fleet and his own victorious army, 

127 



WASHINGTON 

the British commander concluded 
that he had his opponent fairly 
trapped and that he need be in no 
haste to bag the game. During the 
next two weeks, therefore, no hostile 
move was made and Admiral Howe 
received a committee from Congress 
to whom he offered peace, on the 
basis of the colonists resubmitting 
themselves to English rule. But 
when it became apparent that 
nothing short of independence 
would satisfy them the negotiations 
promptly came to a halt. The 
campaign was thereupon resumed, 
with a brisk bombardment of the 

128 



Moving to the Attack on Trenton 
(December 25, 1776) 







SHKS 



$ 







WASHINGTON 

American intrenchments to cover a 
landing of the troops near what is 
now East Thirty-fourth Street. Had 
the lines at this point been firmly 
held it is probable that not a boat 
would have reached the shore, but the 
troops on guard were raw recruits 
who fled almost at the first shot, 
and when Washington arrived on 
the scene the advance-guard of the 
enemy was already on the shore. 
There was still a chance of retrieving 
the situation, however, and the 
General dashed among the fright- 
ened troops, imploring them to 
stand fast, and even striking some 

185 






WASHINGTON 

of the skulkers with the flat of his 
sword in his efforts to check the 
panic. In fact, he was still endeav- 
oring to rally his men when the 
British skirmish line bore down upon 
him, and one of his officers, fearing 
that he would be captured, finally 
forced him from the field. 

Had Howe pushed this advantage 
home by extending his line straight 
across the island he would have pre- 
vented General Putnam and at least 
five thousand men who were at the 
southern end from joining the main 
body under Washington who was 
stationed at the northern end, and 



136 



WASHINGTON 

thus divided the American forces so 
that each part would have been 
hopelessly outnumbered. But the 
day was warm and Howe, with his 
staff, stopped for refreshments at 
Mrs. Murray's house, near what is 
now called Murray Hill, where they 
were so pleasantly received by their 
hostess and her daughters that 
they readily accepted an invitation 
to dinner. Meanwhile Putnam was 
warned of his peril and, while the 
American women made themselves 
agreeable, Major Aaron Burr guided 
the threatened troops up the further 
shore past the danger point and 

137 



WASHINGTON 

brought them, safe and sound, to 
Washington at Harlem Heights. 

Possibly the loss of this great 
opportunity nettled the British 
commander, but in any case he 
immediately advanced against the 
American lines with the idea of 
piercing them at some point and 
pouring sufficient men through the 
opening to subject his opponent to 
a front and rear fire that would 
compel his prompt surrender. So 
confident was Howe that he could 
break the American line that his 
buglers advanced, blowing the fox- 
hunter's "gone to ground" call, 

138 



WASHINGTON 

whose meaning Washington, as a 
sportsman, thoroughly understood. 
But he responded to this mocking 
intimation that he was as good as 
caught by a hail of fire which 
fairly swept the British veterans off 
their feet and demonstrated the 
folly of attempting to crash through 
the thin but rock-like center. There 
was nothing to be done, therefore, 
but to order a halt and swing around 
one end or the other of the American 
lines, and Howe accordingly retired 
to his intrenchments pending the 
arrival of the fleet which would en- 
able him to complete this maneuver. 

139 



WASHINGTON 

Washington soon saw what his 
opponent's next move would be, 
but whether the attack would be 
made on the right or the left end 
he could not be certain, and during 
the weeks that followed he made 
every effort to guard himself against 
surprise. It was at this crisis that 
he sent Captain Nathan Hale to 
Long Island with instructions to 
enter the British lines and learn 
from what point the attack was to 
be made, but the gallant young 
schoolmaster, captured while return- 
ing with his information, was hanged 
as a spy. 

140 



WASHINGTON 

Finally the movements of the 
enemy's ships and men made it clear 
that Howe was planning a wide 
flanking movement around the left 
end, and to meet this maneuver 
Washington fell back upon White 
Plains, where, in a fierce encounter 
(Oct. 28, 1776), he checked the 
enemy's advance. Here again the 
British commander missed a great 
opportunity, for had he pressed for- 
ward he could have swung his troops 
around and behind their quarry, for 
the Americans were in sorry plight 
toward the close of the day and the 
breastworks which they erected dur- 

141 



WASHINGTON 

ing the night were merely made of 
cornstalks, affording little or no 
shelter. But these frail defences 
looked formidable in the distance 
and Howe halted his men, not 
caring to risk an assault until re- 
inforcements arrived. Meanwhile 
Washington again slipped away — 
this time to a really strong position, 
where his exhausted men were able 
to secure a well earned rest. Then, 
just as they were beginning to re- 
gain their courage and confidence, 
Howe suddenly swooped down on 
Fort Washington, away over on 
the American right and somewhat 

142 



Washington Receiving Colonel Rail's Parole 
(December 26, 1776) 



WASHINGTON 

to the rear. If Washington's ad- 
vice had been heeded this post would 
have been abandoned as soon as his 
army fell back, but Congress had 
virtually ordered that it should be 
held, believing it to be impregnable. 
Perhaps it might have proved so 
had not a traitor provided Howe 
with secret information, telling him 
when and where to make his at- 
tack, with the result that this all- 
important position, including its 
garrison of 3,000 men with vast 
stores of cannon and ammunition, 
fell into the hands of the British 
almost without a struggle. This 

147 



WASHINGTON 

was a crushing blow to the Ameri- 
can cause, for it not only eliminated 
the flower of the army but seriously 
impaired the means of keeping what 
remained of it in the field. There- 
fore the only safety for Washington 
lay in immediate flight ; and with 
Lord Cornwallis, the most enter- 
prising of Howe's lieutenants, al- 
most on his heels, the American 
commander began one of the most 
famous retreats known to history. 



CHAPTER X 

ACROSS THE JERSEYS 

IT was fortunate that Washington 
had crossed the Hudson with 
some of his troops before the disas- 
trous capture of the fortress bearing 
his name, but even with the lead 
which this gave him he had barely 
time to order General Lee, his second 
in command, to join him with the 
rest of the army before Cornwallis 
was in full pursuit. In fact, the 
British commander moved so rap- 

149 



WASHINGTON 

idly that the Americans were forced 
to leave most of their baggage be- 
hind them, and not many miles 
had been covered before they began 
to suffer intensely from cold and 
hunger. Indeed many of them soon 
dropped from the ranks, and the 
small army speedily dwindled to 
three thousand pitifully exhausted 
men whose flight seemed certain to 
end in ignominious capture. But 
their leader realized that the fate of 
the American cause depended upon 
his keeping an army in the field, 
and he dodged and slipped behind 
river after river, destroying the 

150 



WASHINGTON 

bridges by which he crossed, now 
delaying his pursuers with a brisk 
rear-guard action and now dividing 
his forces to throw them off the 
trail, but always managing to keep 
just out of reach of the clutching 
foe. Had General Lee promptly 
obeyed his superior's orders Corn- 
wallis might have found his own 
safety imperiled, for the chase had 
drawn him beyond the reach of 
speedy reinforcement. But Lee, 
from selfish and possibly traitorous 
motives, did not hurry, and by the 
time the Commander-in-Chief and 
his freezing troops neared the Dela- 

151 



WASHINGTON 

ware River the days of the American 
Revolution seemed to be numbered. 
Washington, however, was not yet at 
the end of his resources, and hurry- 
ing forward couriers to seize every 
boat up and down the river for 
seventy miles, he moved onward 
undismayed. Success or failure, of 
course, depended upon obtaining 
the means of crossing the river and 
preventing the enemy from follow- 
ing. But fortunately the boats were 
ready when the troops reached the 
shore, and sinking all that were not 
employed in ferrying his men, Wash- 
ington had his army beyond the 

152 



WASHINGTON 

reach of his opponent's cannon as the 
vanguard of the British came in sight. 
For a time Cornwallis scoured the 
country to discover the means of 
transporting his troops, but find- 
ing none he determined to wait 
until the river froze. That event 
did not then promise to delay him 
long, for the weather was still bit- 
terly cold and the ice was already 
forming, so ordering his second in 
command to continue the pursuit 
at the earliest possible moment, he 
returned to New York firmly con- 
vinced that he had brought the war 
to a successful close. 



CHAPTER XI 
A NIGHT ATTACK 

GENERAL HOWE expressly 
approved of Cornwallis's 
action and cordially endorsed his 
opinion that all serious opposition 
to the authorities of the Crown had 
been effectually suppressed. This 
was not the hasty conclusion of an 
over-confident commander. It was 
supported by the submission of 
thousands of disaffected colonists 
who had hastened to make their 

154 




The Battle of Princeton 
(January 3, 1777) 



I 







Si 
flSwltl 1 1 

^ _. ^iiw 




WASHINGTON 

peace with the government during 
the retreat across the Jerseys; it was 
confirmed by the flight of the Con- 
tinental Congress from Philadelphia; 
it was encouraged by the constant 
desertions from the American camp 
and the reports which came from 
that side of the Delaware to the 
effect that only a small fraction ot 
those who had escaped Cornwallis 
still remained under arms, and it 
was officially endorsed by the British 
government, which congratulated 
the commanding general on his 
brilliant campaign and rewarded him 
with a title. 



161 



WASHINGTON 

It was impossible to dispute these 
facts, and Washington did not at- 
tempt it. He looked them straight 
in the face and made his plans ac- 
cordingly. If the worst came to 
pass and the British crossed the 
Delaware, he had determined to 
scatter his little band of followers 
among the mountains and reassem- 
ble them later. But no thought of 
surrender or compromise entered his 
mind. Indeed from his correspond- 
ence at this time one might imagine 
that he was commanding a formi- 
dable army instead of a handful of 
ragged, half-starved men, for he 

162 



WASHINGTON 

made full reports to Congress; con- 
ducted negotiations for the exchange 
of prisoners, and performed the 
thousand other duties which de- 
volve upon a commander-in-chief, 
with all the dignity and calmness 
of a soldier sure of himself and his 
cause. This was not a mere pose in- 
tended to deceive his foes or hearten 
his friends. It was the natural atti- 
tude of a man who felt that he 
represented a great cause and had 
determined to uphold it worthily to 
the end. Meanwhile, he anxiously 
watched for some opening to stave 
off the impending ruin, sending 

163 



WASHINGTON 

spies in the guise of truck-farmers 
through the enemy's camps to 
search for weak spots, and despatch - 
g more and more urgent orders to 
General Charles Lee to bring his 
troops to Headquarters without an 
instant's delay. Then came tl 

s that Lee had been captui 
while separated from his command. 
a squad of British cavalry. This 
the first piece of good luck 
which had befallen Washington 
in many a weary month, for Gen- 
-.-... Sullrv . . d . who succeeded L e e 
5? ~: :ught his men into camp, 

marching them more miles in a 

id 



WASHINGTON 

than their former leader had done 
in a week, and with their advent the 
American commander began to plan 
a daring, aggressive movement. 

Information received from his spies 
convinced Washington that the ene- 
my's vigilance was relaxed and that 
some of their commands on the river 
were so widely separated that one or 
more of them might be attacked 
before the others could come to the 
rescue. He therefore assembled his 
chief officers in a secret conference 
and arranged that two expeditions 
should cross the river on Christmas 
night (1776) and make a simul- 

165 



WASHINGTON 

taneous attack on different parts 
of the British lines, while he him- 
self, with the main body of troops, 
fell upon the Hessians stationed 
at Trenton, whose isolated position 
bade fair to render them an easy 
prey. To insure concerted action 
all the officers set their watches 
by Washington's, and before night- 
fall the three divisions of the little 
army started for their respective 
stations. In one respect the mo- 
ment chosen for this move was 
most favorable, for the river was 
almost blocked with loose ice and a 
wild storm of sleet and snow was 

166 



WASHINGTON 

raging, rendering the enemy con- 
fident that no one would venture 
to cross the water. This confidence 
was not misplaced as far as two 
of the three commands were con- 
cerned, for Washington's men alone 
succeeded in forcing their way 
through the perilous ice floes. The 
only chance of success then lay 
in effecting a complete surprise, for 
the failure of the other two expedi- 
tions left the neighboring posts free 
to go to the Hessians' assistance 
at the first warning. Washington 
therefore pushed ahead at a rapid 
pace, his men wrapping their guns 

167 






WASHINGTON 

in blankets to keep them dry, and 
the officers wearing bits of white 
paper pinned to their hats to make 
sure that the troops would recognize 
them in the darkness. But silently 
and swiftly as they moved under 
cover of the storm, their landing 
and march became known to at least 
one royalist, who hurried to warn 
Colonel Rail, the Hessian com- 
mander, of the impending danger. 
That officer, however, was in no 
mood to have his Christmas fes- 
tivities spoiled by the intrusion of 
strangers. He therefore declined 
to see the excited messenger, and 

168 






Valley Forge 
(1777-8) 



J f4^,* HJ* 




} WWft.i»»n*M 




WASHINGTON 

when the man sent in a note 
informing him that the Americans 
were coming, he thrust the letter, 
unopened, into his pocket. Thus 
the vanguard of Washington's force 
reached the outskirts of Trenton un- 
heralded, and the fire of the fleeing 
sentinels first warned the sleeping 
garrison of its danger. It was too 
late then for any formidable resist- 
ance, and after a few volleys had 
been exchanged, during which Col- 
onel Rail fell mortally wounded, his 
men threw down their arms. Only 
pausing long enough to visit the 
bedside of the unfortunate Hessian 



175 



WASHINGTON 

commander and receive his parole, 
Washington gathered up the spoil 
of battle, which included six cannon, 
a thousand muskets, forty horses, 
fifteen standards, thirty officers and 
nearly a thousand men, and quickly 
recrossing the Delaware, reached his 
headquarters with a total loss of 
three men, all of whom were frozen 
to death on the return journey. 




CHAPTER XII 
A BOLD MANEUVER 

THE fires of revolution, which 
seemed to have been stamped 
out during the early part of Decem- 
ber, 1776, burst into menacing flames 
before the New Year dawned. Bells 
were rung in all the rebel towns; 
recruits came flocking to the army ; 
Congress voted Washington almost 
dictatorial powers and the startled 
British generals hurried from their 
comfortable winter quarters in New 

177 






WASHINGTON 

York to scatter the rekindled embers 
of rebellion. Lord Cornwallis was on 
the point of sailing for England 
when the news from Trenton reached 
him, but he sprang into the saddle, 
and leading a picked corps, raced to 
the scene of action with really as- 
tonishing speed. Indeed he covered 
the distance between New York and 
Princeton so rapidly that Washing- 
ton, who had again recrossed the river 
to Trenton, had no time to retreat, 
and only just managed to get behind 
the Assanpink Creek, which flows 
past the town, before his active op- 
ponent confronted him with an 

178 



WASHINGTON 

overwhelming force. A hot artil- 
lery fire, however, prevented the 
immediate passage of the Assan- 
pink, and before this could be forced 
night brought the struggle to a 
close. 

On two former occasions darkness 
had saved the Americans from anni- 
hilation or capture, and it again 
protected them, although this time 
all the avenues of escape seemed 
blocked. But Washington, with 
his back to the wall, confronting a 
wide circle of foes, thought quickly 
and acted with consummate daring. 
Believing that all Cornwallis's troops 

179 



WASHINGTON 

had not yet reached the scene and 
that a considerable rear-guard must 
be somewhere on the road behind 
him guarding the baggage train, the 
American commander determined 
to withdraw his whole army, and 
swinging around Cornwallis's front 
attempt to crush his rear-guard and 
make for the mountains and safety. 
Secrecy was again essential for suc- 
cess, and so rapidly and quietly was 
the word passed that some of the 
officers quartered at a distance from 
the main camp were not notified of 
the sudden plan and awoke to find 
their friends gone. Meanwhile the 

180 



The Battle of Monmouth 
(June 28, 1778) 



,, :>^'' 









r- -'■ \i- : 




WASHINGTON 

army was swiftly making its wide 
turning movement, with cannon 
wheels muffled in blankets and every 
precaution taken to insure silence 
and speed. Indeed so hot was the 
pace that Princeton was reached al- 
most at daybreak (January 3, 1777), 
and when the British forces, moving 
from that point to reinforce Corn- 
wallis, stumbled upon the vanguard 
of the American army, they at first 
believed that they had merely en- 
countered a scouting party which 
could be easily brushed aside. When 
the error was discovered, however, 
it was too late to correct it and 






187 



WASHINGTON 

Washington's troops swept through 
the surprised British columns with 
resistless fury, sending part of them 
scurrying toward Trenton and driv- 
ing the others back on Princeton, 
where practically all of them were 
killed or captured. 

Then without the loss of a mo- 
ment the daring strategist turned 
his victorious forces into the road 
leading to New Brunswick, where 
he had learned Cornwallis's baggage 
trains were parked, with the idea of 
capturing them before they could 
be protected. But finding his 
nimble-footed antagonist was hotly 

188 






WASHINGTON 

pursuing him, he abandoned the 
effort to secure this prize, and slip- 
ping to the Basking Ridge Hills, 
near Morristown, was soon in a posi- 
tion which defied attack. 



CHAPTER XIII 
THE FIGHT FOR THE HUDSON 

IF Howe had succeeded in captur- 
ing or destroying Washington's 
little army, the rest of the Conti- 
nental forces would probably have 
melted away and the war would 
have ended then and there. But 
the moment the Commander-in- 
Chief was safely intrenched at Mor- 
ristown various small detachments 
began to press forward and harass 
the British, with the result that 

100 



WASHINGTON 

Howe, finding it more and more 
dangerous to be separated from his 
base of supplies, gradually fell back 
toward New York and virtually 
abandoned the Jerseys altogether. 

Though Washington had thus 
saved the cause by keeping his army 
in the field, he soon found that he 
would have to exert all his energies 
if even a semblance of government 
or effective organization of any sort 
was to be maintained. He accord- 
ingly postponed his military plans 
for the moment, and relying on the 
vast powers with which Congress 
had entrusted him, devoted all his 

191 



WASHINGTON 

attention to providing the means by 
which the war could be continued 
with some hope of success; mort- 
gaging or selling his own prop- 
erty to help equip and pay the 
troops; reconciling the quarrels 
between the various colonies; advis- 
ing with Congress; adjusting difficul- 
ties among his officers; persuading 
leading citizens to support the gov- 
ernment, and generally performing 
an amount of work which would be 
incredible were it not that it is all 
set forth in the great mass of letters 
and orders which he wrote during 
this period, and which are now in- 

192 



WASHINGTON 

eluded in the published volumes of 
his correspondence. 

Meanwhile, General Howe had 
been studying his maps to some 
purpose, for he had discovered that 
the Hudson River fairly divided the 
rebellious colonies. Therefore if he 
could control this waterway no 
American troops from the South 
would be able to cross into New 
England to help their brother rebels, 
nor could New England aid the 
Southern colonies, and he would be 
free to concentrate all his forces upon 
each section in turn. He accord- 
ingly determined that the possession 

193 



WASHINGTON 

of the Hudson should be the main 
object of his next campaign. To 
further this General Burgoyne was 
ordered to begin the conquest from 
Canada, working southward until 
he should be joined by Howe mov- 
ing northward from New York. 
This plan was sound enough, but 
Washington found difficulty in 
comprehending his opponent's pre- 
liminary moves, for the British 
authorities in London, unfamiliar 
with the ground and generally 
ignorant of the whole military 
situation, made sorry work of 
Sir William's strategy. Therefore, 

194 



WASHINGTON 

while Washington held his army, 
which then numbered about 11,000 
men, ready to block Howe's path 
whenever he should start to form 
the junction with Burgoyne, the 
London strategists hemmed and 
hawed and generally hesitated to 
give their military representative a 
free hand, with the result that he did 
nothing but maneuver his troops 
in the hope of tempting Washing- 
ton into a general engagement, or 
luring him away from the Hudson. 
But his experienced adversary was 
far too wary to be caught by such 
wiles, and though he marched and 

195 






WASHINGTON 

counter-marched his troops to meet 
whatever move was indicated by the 
enemy, he never allowed himself to 
be drawn very far from the river, 
whose possession he recognized 
was the object of his opponent's 
campaign. Great was his astonish- 
ment, then, when the news reached 
him that Howe had embarked his 
army on transports and was appar- 
ently bound for Philadelphia. Indeed 
for a time he believed this to be 
nothing but a trick intended to en- 
tice him away from the real point 
of attack. But when, at the end of 
August, 1777, the British fleet actu- 

196 



Molly Pitcher at Monmouth 
(June 28, 1778) 







e*'»^i5is 



WASHINGTON 

ally appeared near the Head of Elk 
in Chesapeake Bay he hastily broke 
camp and started for Philadelphia, 
determined to take full advantage 
of a situation which seemed almost 
too good to be true. For a time he 
still acted with great caution, fearing 
that Howe would perceive the folly 
of leaving Burgoyne to fight his way 
down the Hudson through a wilder- 
ness which was already beginning to 
teem with foes. Indeed it was not 
until Sir William actually landed his 
superbly equipped army of 17,000 
men and started north toward Phila- 
delphia that he allowed his own 

201 



WASHINGTON 

plans to take definite shape. No 
one but a wholly unselfish man, 
ready at all times to sacrifice himself 
for his cause, would have dreamed 
of adopting the policy upon which 
Washington then decided. Had he 
been concerned for his personal 
success or reputation all he had to 
do was to order reinforcements from 
the northern army and confront 
Howe on even terms or with su- 
perior numbers. Nothing of this 
sort, however, crossed his mind. 
On the contrary, he determined not 
to draw a man from the Hudson 
River net into which Burgoyne was 

202 



WASHINGTON 

slowly forcing his way, and to keep 
Howe so busily employed in Penn- 
sylvania that he would have no time 
to go to the assistance of his brother 
officer. In doing this Washington 
was well aware that he deliberately 
courted defeat at the hands of an 
adversary whose force was vastly 
superior to his own in equipment, 
discipline and numbers, but he like- 
wise knew that each day's delay 
was a victory for his cause. He 
was therefore well satisfied to be de- 
feated every day in the week if only 
he could compel the enemy to stay 
and fight hard for an empty prize. 

203 



WASHINGTON 

It was in this spirit and with this 
settled policy that the Continental 
army was drawn up behind the Bran- 
dy wine Creek for the defense of Phila- 
delphia on the 11th of September, 
1777. A rapid and well concealed 
flank movement by Howe and Corn- 
wallis surprised General Sullivan 
commanding the right wing of the 
American forces and almost resulted 
in stampeding the whole army, but 
Washington reached the scene in 
time to avert a panic and finally 
succeeded in beating an orderly re- 
treat. Then he began a series of 
maneuvers which threatened and 

204 



WASHINGTON 

checked his victorious opponent so 
successfully that the British army 
consumed two weeks in covering 
twenty-six miles, and when it at 
last reached Philadelphia, Burgoyne 
was almost beyond hope of rescue. 

Almost, but not quite. There 
was still a chance that the War 
Minister in London might wake to 
the situation and authorize Howe 
to save the imperiled army on the 
Hudson, or that Howe himself 
might take the matter into his own 
hands. To prevent this Washing- 
ton decided to make his opponent 
look to his own safety, and starting 

205 



WASHINGTON 

out from the American headquarters 
at Pottsgrove, thirty -five miles from 
Philadelphia, on October 3, 1777, 
he made a rapid march to German- 
town, where he completely surprised 
the British force and for a time 
hurled it back with heavy loss. In- 
deed, had it not been for the confu- 
sion caused by a fog and a stubborn 
resistance by the 40th Regiment 
under Colonel Musgrove, it is doubt- 
ful if the reinforcements which were 
hurried from Philadelphia would 
have reached the scene in time to pre- 
vent a signal disaster to the British 
arms. But though Howe saved 

206 



WASHINGTON 

the day and eventually compelled 
his assailants to retreat, he received 
a bad scare, and whatever plans he 
may have been devising for Bur- 
goyne's rescue were promptly laid 
aside. Probably it was then too 
late, in any case, to have saved the 
northern army, for in less than two 
weeks Burgoyne surrendered to Gen- 
eral Gates at Saratoga, and after forc- 
ing Howe to fight all autumn for 
the complete possession of Phila- 
delphia, Washington p ra c t i c al 1 y 
locked his opponent up in the cap- 
tured city and went into winter 
quarters at Valley Forge. 



CHAPTER XIV 

VALLEY FORGE 

VALLEY FORGE, which took 
its name from an iron works 
in the immediate neighborhood, was 
admirably located for Washington's ' 
purposes, not only because it was 
impregnable to attack but also be- 
cause it was so situated as to menace 
both Philadelphia and New York. 
Indeed it was so close to the Quaker 
City that Howe soon found himself 
practically besieged in the captured 

208 



The First Gun at Yorktown 
(September 28-9, 1781) 



WASHINGTON 

capital, and General Clinton could 
not leave New York without com- 
pletely exposing it to Washington's 
ragged followers in the Pennsylvania 
valley. That the little American 
army was ill -clad and half-starved 
could not be denied, but the worst 
aspect of its pitiable condition was 
that there would have been no lack 
of provisions and clothing had those 
who were charged with the duty 
of furnishing the necessary supplies 
performed their work with even 
ordinary intelligence, industry and 
honesty. Congress had, however, 
fallen into the hands of a set of in- 



213 



WASHINGTON 

competents who had taken the places 
of abler and more patriotic men who 
had resigned to enter the army or to 
perform other and more congenial 
public service. The result was that 
in a winter of exceptional severity 
the soldiers at Valley Forge were 
not only left to freeze and starve, but 
were actually denounced as being too 
lazy or cowardly to fight. Wash- 
ington met this neglect and calumny 
with characteristic energy. Since 
Congress would not provide for his 
men he determined to do it himself, 
and urging General Greene, one of 
his ablest lieutenants, — to disprove 

214 



WASHINGTON 

the saying that "history never heard 
of a Quartermaster-General" — he 
at last persuaded that officer to as- 
sume the task of provisioning and 
equipping the army. There is noth- 
ing very romantic or exciting in a 
Quartermaster's duties under the 
most favorable circumstances, and 
Greene's work was as difficult as it 
was disagreeable, for there was very 
little money to buy food for the 
hungry soldiers, and obtaining it 
by force aroused the enmity of all 
the countryside. In the face of 
these and many other obstacles it 
would not have been surprising if 

215 



WASHINGTON 

Greene had failed. But he did not 
fail, and for once at least a Quarter- 
master-General made history. 

Meanwhile, Washington was 
bringing his experience as a planter 
into play by planning for a perma- 
nent camp on the lines of a well- 
ordered village, awarding prizes to 
the men who built the best huts, 
and otherwise encouraging them to 
their best efforts. Thus, little by 
little, he inspired the soldiers with 
something of his own resistless spirit 
and gradually made the encampment 
habitable if not comfortable. But 
in spite of all his exertions, the men 

216 



WASHINGTON 

suffered intensely from the cold and 
privations to which they were sub- 
jected, diseases of various kinds rav- 
aged their ranks and many a poor 
fellow died a martyr to official indif- 
ference and neglect. Yet such was 
the devotion of the Valley Forge 
garrison to their chief that there 
were practically no desertions among 
the native born Americans and very 
few of the foreign born sought this 
refuge from the hardships they were 
needlessly forced to endure. Similar 
loyalty to the great cause and its 
unselfish leader was not, however, 
observable in other and more com- 



217 



WASHINGTON 

fortable headquarters. In fact, it 
soon became obvious that General 
Gates, to whom Burgoyne had sur- 
rendered at Saratoga, was encourag- 
ing an attempt to supplant Wash- 
ington as the Commander-in-Chief. 
For a time no notice was taken of 
this petty conspiracy, which was 
engineered by an ambitious Irish 
adventurer named Conway, until 
certain members of Congress began 
to shake their heads at Washington's 
defeats and compare them with 
Gates's reputed triumph. As a mat- 
ter of fact, it was General Schuyler 
and General Benedict Arnold who 



218 



WASHINGTON 

had done all the work in the Sara- 
toga campaign, and Gates had arrived 
on the scene only just about in time 
to gain the official credit for the vic- 
tory. Nevertheless there was con- 
siderable evidence that Congress was 
being deceived by these constant mis- 
representations, when the publica- 
tion of some letters which Conway 
and Gates imprudently wrote re- 
vealed the whole miserable plot, and 
its exposure was soon followed by 
a public outburst of affection and 
loyalty for Washington such as he 
had never previously experienced. 
Meanwhile, recruiting had been 

219 



WASHINGTON 

steadily progressing in Valley Forge, 
and to train the newcomers and the 
veterans in the tactics of European 
armies there had come to Washing- 
ton's assistance the most famous 
drill-master known to history. This 
was no less a personage than Baron 
Steuben, a former member of Fred- 
erick the Great's staff, who, like 
Lafayette, had come to America, 
volunteering to serve without pay 
or reward of any kind, because of 
his belief in the principles for which 
the colonies were contending. Under 
the guidance of this distinguished 
instructor the discipline and effici- 

220 




Americans Carrying Redoubt at Yorktown 
(October 14, 1781) 




| " J^r 


Til 


™ y/^g^ - ^^ x> ^ 


t^^T^^^l 



WASHINGTON 

ency of the troops were vastly im- 
proved, and the formation of a 
cavalry corps under "Light Horse" 
Harry Lee rendered the army, which, 
by the spring of 1778, numbered 
almost 15,000 men, still more for- 
midable. Then news reached Valley 
Forge that France had officially 
recognized the independence of the 
colonies, and the encouragement 
which this brought to the sup- 
porters of the American cause was 
not lost upon General Howe, whose 
possession of Philadelphia had by 
that time become so precarious that 
his foraging parties did not dare to 

225 



WASHINGTON 

venture from the city unless pro- 
tected by a full brigade. Indeed the 
British general's military reputation 
had been greatly damaged by his 
winter in Philadelphia and there was 
more regret than surprise when he 
retired to England, turning over his 
command to General Clinton, then 
quartered at New York. 

The acceptance of his resignation 
was a most unjust reflection on 
Howe's generalship, but he probably 
welcomed it as relieving him from 
a most unpleasant duty. He had 
never had any real sympathy with 
the war against the Americans and 

226 



WASHINGTON 

his campaigns had been fatally 
handicapped by the stupidity and 
neglect of the home government, 
whose policy had veered between 
conciliation and vengeance by fits 
and starts. Howe had certainly 
tried to conquer the people of 
Philadelphia by kindness during his 
enforced residence in that city, and 
shortly before his departure the 
authorities in London made one of 
their spasmodic efforts at a general 
reconciliation by appointing Peace 
Commissioners to confer with the 
representatives in Congress. For a 
time Sir Henry Clinton thought 

227 



WASHINGTON 

that this might render further hos- 
tilities unnecessary. His hope, how- 
ever, was soon rudely shattered, and 
realizing the danger of remaining 
longer in Philadelphia, he abandoned 
the city on June 18, 1778, and began 
a rapid retreat to New York, hotly 
pursued by Washington's exulting 
army. 



CHAPTER XV 

THE BATTLE OF MONMOUTH 

THE country through which 
Clinton and Cornwallis were 
retreating northward in stifling heat 
was practically the same as that over 
which Cornwallis had driven Wash- 
ington's half-frozen followers south- 
ward just a year and a half earlier. 
In each case the pursuer had a great 
opportunity for ending the war, but 
when the Americans were retreating 
they were unencumbered with bag- 



229 



WASHINGTON 

gage while the British fugitives were 
hampered with a wagon train nearly 
twelve miles long. There was every 
probability, therefore, that they 
would soon be overhauled, and with 
a force equal if not superior to his 
adversary's, Washington knew that 
all the chances of war were in his 
favor. Certainly no such oppor- 
tunity had ever previously been of- 
fered to him for striking a crippling 
blow, and his astonishment was 
therefore unspeakable when General 
Charles Lee, who was practically his 
chief of staff, strongly urged that 
the pursuit be abandoned and that 

230 



WASHINGTON 

the enemy be allowed to depart in 
peace. Preposterous as this advice 
appeared to be, Lee's military repu- 
tation was such that a number of 
other officers supported him, but 
Washington, who had forgiven, 
if not quite forgotten his sus- 
piciously bad judgment in handling 
his reinforcements on the retreat to 
the Delaware, promptly disregarded 
his opinion and ordered a vigorous 
pursuit. Lee took offense at this 
rebuff and declined to lead the 
advance-guard to which he was 
assigned, until Washington appoint- 
ed Lafayette to the position when 

231 



WASHINGTON 

he repented and asked for reinstate- 
ment. Such conduct in the presence 
of the enemy was, of course, unpar- 
donable, and it would have been 
well if Washington had refused to 
listen to his plea. But the army as 
a whole had confidence in the offend- 
ing officer and his chief had no means 
of knowing that the man was a 
traitor who had already supplied the 
British with a plan for attacking the 
army whose uniform he wore. La- 
fayette was accordingly asked to 
yield his command to Lee, who was 
hurried forward with strict injunc- 
tions to attack and force the fighting 

232 






French Carrying Redoubt at Yorktown 
(October 14, 1781) 



WASHINGTON 

until the main American column 
should reach the scene. 

A more favorable moment for the 
execution of these orders could not 
have been selected, for Clinton had 
divided his forces, sending part of 
them forward with the heavy bag- 
gage trains and holding the rest in 
reserve to cover the retreat. Corn- 
wallis, who commanded this rear- 
guard, concluded that the best way 
to fulfill his orders was to attack the 
advancing American columns, and a 
firm stand or counter attack on the 
part of Lee would have soon brought 
the divided British army into colli- 

237 



WASHINGTON 

sion with a greatly superior force, 
which was the very situation upon 
which Washington was counting. 
But to the amazement of Lafay- 
ette and his fellow officers Lee did 
not hold his ground and allowed the 
troops to retreat in such fashion as 
to expose them to destruction or 
capture. Indeed both officers and 
men were becoming badly demoral- 
ized when Washington arrived on 
the scene, and bursting into a violent 
rage, ordered Lee to the rear. Then 
with desperate energy he set about 
rallying the confused and huddled 
columns, assigning them to posi- 

238 



WASHINGTON 

tions favorable for both defense and 
attack. 

On several other occasions during 
the war the American commander 
had endeavored to extricate his 
troops from a perilous situation by 
throwing himself into the thick of 
the fray and inspiring them with 
his own example and daring, but 
never before had he met with such 
instant response. Thanks to Baron 
Steuben's tireless drilling at Valley 
Forge, the men quickly reformed 
their disordered ranks, and after 
checking the advancing British gren- 
adiers, rolled them back with fearful 

239 



WASHINGTON 

slaughter. Indeed, such was the 
enthusiasm displayed in this memor- 
able battle that when one of the 
American artillerymen fell, his wife, 
known as Molly Pitcher, is said to 
have taken his place and served his 
gun during the remainder of the 
engagement. 

It was then, of course, too late for 
Washington to carry out his original 
plan of battle. Nevertheless, before 
night all the lost ground had been 
recovered and such heavy damage 
had been inflicted upon Clinton's 
forces that he was glad to escape 
under cover of darkness (June 28, 

240 



WASHINGTON 

1778). This timely and skilful 
withdrawal probably saved his army 
from destruction and prolonged the 
war for at least another three years. 



CHAPTER XVI 

TREACHERY 

THERE was nothing to be 
gained by further pursuit, so 
Washington moved forward by slow 
stages, and reaching White Plains, 
some twenty miles from New York, 
went into camp. For a time he 
hoped to arrange with the French 
fleet, which had appeared in the 
outer harbor, for a joint attack on 
the city, but it was impossible to 
induce the new allies of the colonies 

242 



WASHINGTON 

to cooperate effectively, and he had 
to content himself by holding Clin- 
ton within the city lines. Indeed 
from a military standpoint this was 
all he attempted for nearly a year, 
though his activities in other direc- 
tions multiplied as they had done at 
Valley Forge. In fact, the situation 
soon became far worse than it had 
been during the preceding year, for 
Congress not only left undone 
those things which it ought to 
have done, but did many things 
which it ought not to have done, 
with dire results to the country and 
the cause it was supposed to pro- 

243 



WASHINGTON 

tect. In the first place, despite 
Washington's protest, it appointed 
the self-seeking Gates to defend 
the South against the army which 
Clinton had despatched to harass 
that region ; and, in the second 
place, it unjustly accused Bene- 
dict Arnold of improper conduct 
as an officer, denied him a prompt 
hearing of the charges brought 
against him, and after he had 
been exonerated from all blame, 
abused and persecuted him almost 
beyond endurance. Washington was 
powerless to prevent these foolish 
and dangerous proceedings, but 

244 



Surrender of Cornwallis 
(October 19, 1781) 



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WASHINGTON 

when Gates was shamefully routed 
at Camden, where he displayed such 
concern for his person that he was 
the first to arrive at a point of 
safety, the nomination of his suc- 
cessor was entrusted to the Com- 
mander-in-Chief. He promptly 
appointed Nathanael Greene, the 
Quartermaster - General of Valley 
Forge, who straightway set about 
winning new laurels for himself in 
a field where the Americans had, 
up to that time, known only disas- 
trous defeats. Meanwhile, certain 
members of Congress had been 
continuing their mischievous work 

251 



WASHINGTON 

with Arnold, and when that officer 
asked Washington to transfer him 
from Philadelphia where his enemies 
were goading him to madness, his 
chief gladly acceded to the request, 
assigning him to the command of 
West Point. As a matter of fact, 
it was a great relief to Washington 
to have a man of Arnold's ability in 
charge of this fortress, which was 
the key to the American position 
on the Hudson River and virtually 
controlled that important waterway. 
For want of just such a subordinate 
he had been forced to undertake this 
duty himself, not daring to be absent 

252 



WASHINGTON 

more than a few hours at a time, 
despite the fact that his presence 
was urgently needed elsewhere. But 
with Arnold on the ground he felt 
at liberty to turn his attention to 
other matters, and accordingly at 
the first favorable moment he started 
for Hartford to confer with Rocham- 
beau, the commander of the French 
forces in America, concerning a joint 
campaign against New York. 

This was exactly what Arnold had 
hoped would happen, for all his 
loyalty to his country had been 
turned into hate by his persecutions 
and he had long been meditating a 

253 



WASHINGTON 

terrible revenge. Indeed he had al- 
ready sent word to Sir Henry Clinton 
that he was prepared to betray West 
Point in return for a high commis- 
sion in the English army and a large 
sum of money. Such a proposition 
was, of course, a downright insult 
to every officer who wore a British 
uniform and that it should have 
been considered, even for a moment, 
demonstrated the pitiful weakness 
of the royal government. The in- 
famous offer, however, was not only 
considered, but cordially encouraged, 
and before Arnold actually controlled 
West Point he had received virtual 



254 



WASHINGTON 

assurances that he could buy a com- 
mission in the King's service at the 
loathsome price he mentioned. 

Therefore the instant Washing- 
ton's back was turned the traitor 
advised his new friends that the 
time for action had arrived, and 
Major Andre, Clinton's Adjutant- 
General, was despatched to meet 
him just outside the American lines 
to devise a plan for carrying out the 
shameful bargain. This business, 
which should have disgusted a man 
of Andre's standing, was soon trans- 
acted, though not soon enough for 
the British officer, who, to avoid de- 

255 



WASHINGTON 

lay, entered the American lines, and 
foolishly adopting a partial disguise, 
endeavored to make his way down 
the left bank of the Hudson. But 
near Tarrytown he was halted by 
a group of soldiers and marched 
to the nearest military post, whose 
commanding officer, recognizing 
Arnold's handwriting on the papers 
which were found in the prisoner's 
stockings, gave directions to have 
him conducted to the West Point 
headquarters. Had these orders re- 
mained in force, the plot might 
not have been discovered in time. 
But fortunately Major Tallmadge, 

256 



WASHINGTON 

who, strangely enough, had been a 
classmate of Nathan Hale's at Yale, 
interposed, and Andre was held while 
word of his capture was sent to both 
Washington and Arnold. The mes- 
senger despatched to Washington 
passed him while he was returning 
by a different road, and by the time 
this mischance was corrected, Arnold 
had learned of the spy's arrest and 
had taken refuge on a British man- 
of-war. 



CHAPTER XVII 
YORKTOWN 

ARNOLD'S treacherous deser- 
tion was a terrible blow to 
Washington. He was a man who 
did not give his friendship lightly, 
but when once he trusted any one 
he did so unreservedly, and of all his 
officers Arnold was perhaps the one 
upon whose skill and devotion he 
had most confidently relied. It 
would not have been surprising, 
therefore, if the base betrayal of his 

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friend had hopelessly embittered and 
discouraged him, but he laid aside 
his personal feelings, and taking 
instant measures to protect the 
threatened fortress, calmly continued 
his interrupted plans. Indeed it is 
said that from that day forward he 
discouraged even the mention of 
Arnold's name in his presence and 
it is certain that the most painful 
act of his official life was his ap- 
proval of the verdict by which the 
gallant young Major Andre was 
condemned to death. 

Then the old struggle to spur 
Congress into the performance of its 

265 



WASHINGTON 

duties was renewed, for no effective 
cooperation with the French could 
be had unless the army was in proper 
condition, and through official mis- 
management the troops were not 
only poorly supplied with arms and 
ammunition, but their pay was con- 
stantly in arrears. Indeed their con- 
dition was such that some of the 
regiments actually mutinied and, had 
Washington not handled the situa- 
tion with astrong hand, their example 
might have had a fatal effect upon 
the whole army. Cheering news, 
however, soon came from the South, 
where Greene had conducted his 

266 



WASHINGTON 

campaign so skilfully that Cornwallis 
had been forced from the Carolinas 
and had fallen back on Virginia, upon 
which he intended to inflict sum- 
mary punishment. The American 
forces sent to oppose him in that 
region were under the able leadership 
of Lafayette, Steuben and Wayne. 
They were, however, greatly out- 
numbered, and late in the spring of 
1781 Washington realized that if 
something were not done to relieve 
them they would soon be captured 
or destroyed. He accordingly urged 
General Rochambeau to lose no time 
in joining him in an attack on New 

267 



WASHINGTON 

York which would, at least, hurry 
the British away from the South and 
save the situation there. But this 
or any other effective plan required 
the cooperation of the French fleet 
under the Count de Grasse which 
was then in the West Indies, and 
Washington persuaded Rochambeau 
to join him in requesting the French 
Admiral, either to blockade New 
York or to set sail for Virginia. 

Weeks of anxious waiting fol- 
lowed, during which Rochambeau 
moved his troops from Newport, 
Rhode Island, to Dobbs Ferry, New 
York, where they formed a junction 

268 



WASHINGTON 

with Washington's army, and about 
the 22nd of July, 1781, the allies made 
a reconnoissance in force against the 
outlying British defences. This was 
intended to alarm Clinton and it 
was entirely successful in that par- 
ticular, for all his attention was 
thenceforth focussed on prepara- 
tions for defending himself from 
the main assault, of which he judged 
this to be the preliminary skirmish. 
Possibly his expectations might 
have been fully realized had it not 
been for the timely arrival of a 
despatch from de Grasse notifying 
Washington that his fleet was sailing 

269 



WASHINGTON 

for Chesapeake Bay. Then, almost 
at the same moment, came a message 
from Lafayette to the effect that 
Cornwallis was at Yorktown on the 
York River, Virginia, close to the 
very point for which de Grasse was 
heading. The instant this situa- 
tion was realized Washington deter- 
mined on a bold, swift move which 
involved great risks but which, if 
successful, might end the war. He 
accordingly held a secret conference 
with Rochambeau, and within a few 
hours the two armies were on the 
move through New Jersey. Neither 
the men nor their officers had any 

270 



WASHINGTON 

knowledge of where they were 
marching or for what purpose, but 
many of them doubtless thought 
that New York was the point of 
attack. Certainly Clinton believed 
that the Americans were attempting 
to swing around his rear through 
Staten Island or Sandy Hook, and 
every means was taken to encourage 
this delusion ; so that the advance- 
guard of Washington's hurrying 
columns had already reached the 
Delaware River before he awoke to 
the real peril of the situation. It 
was then too late to think of pur- 
suit; so Arnold was ordered to 

271 



WASHINGTON 

ravage some of the New England 
towns in the hope of bringing 
Washington back to their rescue. 
But the American Commander-in- 
Chief was not to be swerved from 
the great object he had in view, and 
brushing every obstacle aside, he 
swept down upon Yorktown, ar- 
riving there on September 28, 1781. 
Meanwhile, the British and French 
fleets had been battling for the pos- 
session of Chesapeake Bay, with the 
result that the French vessels held 
command of the disputed waters 
and Cornwallis was cut off from all 
escape by sea, with little or no chance 

272 



Washington Pleading with Mutinous Soldiers 
(1782) 



WASHINGTON 

of fighting his way to safety through 
the ring of steel which was rapidly 
being welded around him on the land. 
Nevertheless, he pluckily prepared 
himself for a stout resistance, and at 
the end of a two weeks' siege it 
seemed as though he might be 
able to hold his ground until the 
French fleet was called from the 
scene. This was by no means a 
remote contingency, for de Grasse 
soon notified Washington that if 
the end was much further delayed 
he would not keep his vessels in 
position, and to expedite matters 
the Commander-in-Chief ordered 



277 



WASHINGTON 

a combined assault on the British 
works, Alexander Hamilton lead- 
ing the American detachments and 
Colonel de Deuxponts the French. 
The movement was brilliantly exe- 
cuted, and in less than ten minutes 
the Americans were swarming over 
the redoubts against which they had 
been hurled, and the French soon 
achieved a similar success. Then 
followed an heroic attempt by Corn- 
wallis's men to break through the 
investing lines, which was fiercely 
repulsed, and a savage bombardment 
at close range was rapidly reducing 
the town to bricks and mortar when, 



WASHINGTON 

on October 17, 1781, the long roll of 
a drum was heard from the battered 
ramparts and a white flag announced 
that the garrison of 8,000 men were 
ready to surrender. 

Two days later the British marched 
out of their entrenchments, passing 
between the French and American 
armies, and laid down their arms. 
Lord Cornwallis, however, was 
spared the humiliation of tendering 
his sword in person to Washington. 
Pleading illness, he sent his repre- 
sentative, General O'Hara, to make 
the formal submission for him, but 
the American commander deputed 

279 



WASHINGTON 

General Lincoln, who had once sur- 
rendered to Cornwallis, to receive 
the sword of his former conqueror, 
and Lincoln merely taking the blade 
in his hand for a moment, returned 
it to the bearer. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

PEACE 

THE surrender of Cornwallis at 
Yorktown virtually ended the 
war, for within six months after that 
event negotiations for peace were 
begun by the British authorities. 
These negotiations, however, con- 
sumed almost a year, and mean- 
while Washington experienced great 
difficulty in keeping the army to- 
gether, for the soldiers began to 
suspect that Congress intended to 

281 



WASHINGTON 

overlook their claims, and the mur- 
murings against official neglect took 
a very ugly form. It was not only 
the men in the ranks who com- 
plained of injustice, but also the 
officers, and this soon brought about 
a crisis which threatened the very 
existence of the government. One 
of the leaders finally addressed a 
letter to Washington, plainly stat- 
ing that the army was disgusted 
with Congress and was ready to 
abolish that body and install the 
Commander-in-Chief as supreme 
ruler, with the title of King. 

Washington was profoundly as- 



WASHINGTON 

tonished and greatly displeased by 
this suggestion, which he immedi- 
ately informed the writer was "big 
with the greatest mischiefs" which 
could befall the country. He was 
at a loss, he said, to conceive what 
part of his conduct could have given 
encouragement to any such ideas 
and begged his correspondent never 
to communicate as from himself or 
anyone else sentiments of a similar 
nature. 

This significant rebuke disposed of 
all plans for turning the United States 
into a monarchy with Washington 
as King, but it did not quiet the 

283 



WASHINGTON 

spirit of revolt in the army. On 
the contrary, a meeting was called 
by the leading officers to devise 
some practical means of forcing 
Congress to recognize their rights. 
What the result of this conference 
would have been if Washington had 
not interfered cannot be definitely 
stated, but it is almost certain that 
the government would have been 
completely overthrown. The Com- 
mander-in-Chief, however, made a 
personal appeal to those who had 
organized the movement, and re- 
minding them that he had grown 
gray in their service, begged them 

284 












Washington's Farewell to His Officers 
(December -t. 17 S3) 



WASHINGTON 

to have patience and trust Congress 
to see that they were treated with 
justice. Fortunately for the country, 
the officers listened to this address 
and agreed out of respect for their 
beloved chief to postpone the ad- 
justment of their grievances. This, 
which was, perhaps, the greatest 
triumph of Washington's career, 
was achieved only just in the nick 
of time, for a treaty of peace had 
already been signed, and on April 
19, 1783, exactly eight years after 
the battle of Lexington, the news 
was officially proclaimed to the 
army. 

291 






WASHINGTON 

Seven months later the British 
forces evacuated New York, and 
Washington having moved down 
from West Point took possession of 
the city amid scenes of wild enthusi- 
asm. By this time the army had been 
practically disbanded, and nine days 
after his triumphal entry into New 
York the Commander-in-Chief met 
his officers in the "Long Room" at 
Fraunces' Tavern to bid them fare- 
well before starting for Annapolis 
to tender his resignation to Con- 
gress. The moment was a hard one 
for both the leader and his trusted 
followers. They had fought shoul- 

292 



WASHINGTON 

der to shoulder for many years 
and the thought that they were 
parting, never perhaps to meet again, 
filled them with keen sorrow which 
they made no effort to conceal. 
Little was said by anyone, and when 
Washington, mastering his emotion, 
thanked them, in a few words, for 
their devotion and loyalty and asked 
each of them to take him by the 
hand, there were many who shed 
tears. 

At Philadelphia Washington 
stopped to settle his accounts with 
the government. This was a simple 
matter, for he had kept full accounts 

293 



WASHINGTON 

of all he had spent and every detail 
was found to be correct. He neither 
claimed nor received, however, the 
sums he had expended from his 
private funds, and he had very little 
property except his plantations when 
he laid aside his sword. 

The ceremonies surrounding the 
resignation of his commission as 
Commander-in-Chief were extremely 
simple and dignified. Entering the 
Hall of Congress, where the twenty 
representatives of the States sat 
wearing their hats, as was the cus- 
tom of that time, he faced the audi- 
ence, and congratulating them on 

294 



WASHINGTON 

the termination of the war and 
commending his officers and men 
to their favor, resigned "with satis- 
faction the appointment he had ac- 
cepted with diffidence." 

A brief response was made by the 
presiding official, at the conclusion 
of whose remarks Washington rose 
and passed down the center aisle 
between the members of Congress, 
who this time bared their heads. 



CHAPTER XIX 

HOME DAYS 

THE next five and a half years 
were probably the happiest 
that Washington ever knew. Sur- 
rounded by his family and friends, 
and amid the scenes of his youth, 
he devoted himself to the restora- 
tion of his beloved Mount Vernon, 
which had suffered somewhat during 
the war. It was during this period 
of peace and joy that he planned 
and carried out much of the plant- 

296 



WASHINGTON 

ing and gardening which to-day 
delight those who visit this historic 
home, and the evidences of his 
presence and care are still to be seen 
on every side. This labor of love 
was not performed without inter- 
ruptions, however, for all sorts and 
conditions of men journeyed to the 
Potomac, seeking his advice, and 
the influx of visitors, drawn there 
by interest or curiosity, almost 
turned Mount Vernon, as the host 
put it, into "a well resorted inn." 
Even Virginian hospitality must 
have been sorely taxed in welcom- 
ing the strangers within Mount 

297 



WASHINGTON 

Vernon's gates, for Washington's 

diary of June 30, 1785, records that 
he and his wife dined alone that 
night for the first time in eighteen 
months. 

Many old friends were, of course, 
included among the guests at his 
table, and from the repeated visits 
of such men as Madison. Monroe. 
Jefferson, Richard Henry Lee, Pat- 
rick Henry, Alexander Hamilton 
and others, he was kept in close 
touch with public affairs. It thus 
happened that when the feeble gov- 
ernment was breaking down and the 
United States was fast becoming 

896 



Washington at Mount Vernon 
(1798) 






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WASHINGTON 

disunited, he was in communication 
with many of those who were seek- 
ing to save the country from chaos 
by urging Congress to call a con- 
vention for the purpose of framing 
a constitution. With voice and pen 
he earnestly advocated this plan and 
it is probable that his authority had 
more weight than that of any other 
man in persuading the legislators to 
adopt it. At all events, Virginia 
promptly nominated him as one of 
her representatives, and the conven- 
tion assembled in Philadelphia on 
May 25, 1787, unanimously chose 
him for its presiding officer. During 

305 



WASHINGTON 

the next four months he was almost 
constantly occupied with the duties 
of this office, and his opinion and 
authority had great weight in effect- 
ing the acceptance of the Constitu- 
tion as framed by the convention by 
eleven out of the thirteen States. 

This event occurred September 
17, 1787, and once more restored to 
the joys of Mount Vernon, Wash- 
ington proceeded with his task of 
''building it a little nearer to the 
heart's desire." He was at this 
time physically and mentally in his 
prime, being about fifty-five years 
of age, full of energy and enthusiasm, 

306 






WASHINGTON 

resourceful, experienced and in love 
with his work. That work was 
rudely interrupted, however, on 
March 14, 1789, when Charles 
Thompson, the veteran Secretary 
of Congress, arrived at Mount Ver- 
non with the official notification 
that the master of the house had 
been elected President of the United 
States. "My movements to the 
chair of government," wrote Wash- 
ington as he was preparing to leave 
his home, "will be accompanied by 
feelings not unlike those of a culprit 
who is going to the place of his exe- 
cution. So unwilling am I to quit 

307 



WASHINGTON 

a peaceful abode for an ocean of 
difficulties without the competency 
of political skill, abilities or inclina- 
tion which are necessary to manage 
the helm." But this modest self- 
distrust merely served to increase 
the people's confidence in their 
chosen ruler, and his journey from 
Mount Vernon to New York was a 
continuous ovation expressing the 
affection and esteem of the entire 
nation. 



CHAPTER XX 

THE PRESIDENCY 

NO pomp or ceremony distin- 
guished the inauguration of 
Washington as the first President 
of the United States, but the proceed- 
ings were dignified and impressive 
and the new chief magistrate showed 
by his words and bearing that he 
fully realized the grave responsibility 
which rested upon him. He under- 
stood that all he said or did during 
his administration would form a pre- 

309 



WASHINGTON 

cedent for good or evil to those who 
succeeded him in the mighty office 
with which he had been entrusted, 
and his constant aim was to advance 
the interests and standing of the 
United States and assure the young 
republic a place among the nations 
of the earth. This soon brought him 
into conflict with Governor Hancock 
of Massachusetts, who insisted that 
the dignity of his State demanded 
that the President should not take 
precedence over its chief ruler on 
ceremonial occasions. He therefore 
declined to call on Washington when 
the latter visited Massachusetts, but 

310 



WASHINGTON 

when it was explained to him that 
the representative of no one State 
could consider himself superior to 
the representative of all the States 
combined, he yielded and this com- 
paratively trivial incident went far 
toward establishing the National 
authority at home. His effort to 
gain recognition for the country 
abroad was not, however, so readily 
accepted by the people. Indeed for 
a time the rather one-sided treaty 
which he negotiated with Great 
Britain brought a storm of popular 
protest. But the President knew 
that an even more unfavorable treaty 

311 



WASHINGTON 

with the mother country at that 
moment would have been far better 
than none, and he disregarded the 
public clamor, preferring to lose his 
own popularity rather than miss an 
opening for advancing the prestige 
of the Republic. Again he did not 
hesitate to offend the then powerful 
adherents of France when the repre- 
sentatives of that nation sought to 
take undue liberties with the United 
States. There were, of course, 
many who resented this and every- 
thing else that was done to enforce 
the national supremacy, but Wash- 
ington steadily pursued the policy 

312 



The Death of Washington 
(December 14, 1799) 







WASHINGTON 

which he realized was necessary if 
the former loose confederation of 
States was to become a real Nation. 
Indeed when certain riotous Penn- 
sylvanians undertook to resist the 
laws of Congress, he did not hesitate 
to summon troops to support the 
Federal authorities, and putting 
himself at their head, suppressed the 
incipient rebellion without the fir- 
ing of a shot. 

All this firmness and independence 
made enemies for the President, but 
the popular demand for his continu- 
ance in office at the end of his first 
term was so general that it might 

317 



WASHINGTON 

fairly be said to be unanimous. 
Nevertheless, he hesitated to accept 
the call, and had he consulted his 
own wishes he would have retired to 
Mount Vernon and the quiet life of 
the plantation for which his soul 
yearned. He yielded, however, to 
the plea that he had no right to 
abandon the people at a critical stage 
of their experiment in popular gov- 
ernment, and he was rewarded by 
fretting ingratitude and shamefully 
unjust criticism. Indeed, March 4, 
1797, when John Adams was in- 
augurated as his successor, was prob- 
ably the happiest day Washington 

318 



WASHINGTON 

knew during the whole of his second 
term. His critics and slanderers did 
not, however, represent the people, 
and on his retirement from office the 
sensitive, high-minded public servant 
was greeted with an outburst of 
popular affection which must have 
shown him the real heart of the 
nation. 



CHAPTER XXI 
HOME 

WASHINGTON'S second 
home-coming was even 
more joyous than his first. On each 
occasion he had been absent for eight 
years, but his service during the war 
had not told as heavily on him as 
his presidential duties had, and 
after the storm and stress of politics 
Mount Vernon offered such a haven 
of rest and peace that he wrote Gen- 
eral Knox that he never expected to 

320 



WASHINGTON 

be twenty miles away from it during 
the remainder of his natural life. 
There was plenty of work to be 
done on the place, for much that 
he had begun during his former 
years of peace had to be done again, 
and he had elaborate plans for fur- 
ther beautifying and cultivating the 
estate. Into this happy labor he 
threw himself heart and soul, super- 
intending every detail personally and 
often remaining in the saddle prac- 
tically all day. He could not devote 
his whole time to this congenial oc- 
cupation, however, for he was forced 
to write or dictate an enormous 



321 



WASHINGTON 

number of letters each day to stem 
the flood of correspondence which 
poured in upon him. Moreover, 
visitors continued to throng the 
house, and the presence of several 
permanent guests, including his 
adopted grandchild, Nellie Custis, 
and young George Washington La- 
fayette, the General's son, served to 
divert his attention. The company 
of the young people added greatly 
to his pleasure, but the strangers 
who called to procure his autograph, 
to paint his portrait, to present 
books, poems and music which had 
been dedicated to him, and to ask 

322 






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WASHINGTON 

his opinion on all sorts of questions, 
were a trial to his patience and a 
strain on his hospitality. Never- 
theless, they were all received with 
courtesy and the home life went 
happily on until April, 1798, when 
news suddenly arrived from France 
that the American envoys to that 
country had been treated with in- 
sult and that the country must pre- 
pare for war. How thoroughly the 
people were united was well demon- 
strated by their instant response 
to the call. The organizing of a 
formidable army was promptly be- 
gun, and Washington was given 

327 



WASHINGTON 

supreme command, with the rank 
of Lieutenant-General, but no war 
resulted, for France quickly made 
the proper disclaimers of intention 
to offend. Still the emergency took 
the master of Mount Vernon further 
away from his hearthstone than he 
had ever expected to be, and for a 
few months the quiet routine of his 
life was interrupted. As soon as 
the war clouds passed, however, he 
resumed his farming duties, and in 
April, 1799, he began a survey of 
his property. This he supplemented 
by a written plan, covering thirty 
pages, for the future development 

328 



WASHINGTON 

and care of the estate. A day or so 
after he finished this elaborate series 
of schedules and instructions he was 
suddenly taken ill with acute laryn- 
gitis, and on Friday, December 13, 
1799, after one night of suffering, 
he passed quietly away in the pres- 
ence of his loved ones. 

Only a few neighbors and friends 
accompanied his body to its resting 
place in his adored Mount Vernon, 
which remains a perfect setting for 
his memory— its beauty, dignity 
and majestic calm reflecting the un- 
selfish, modest and inspiring life that 
helped to mould a mighty nation. 



329 



(i) 



